Labyrinth: Hall of Dreams
by aimdiscord
Summary: And if you turn it this way, it will show you your dreams... Bah! No one falls for that line anymore! Luckily, a Goblin King never makes the same mistake twice. This time, Jareth will ascertain Sarah's deepest desire using magic. [COMPLETE]
1. Moping Around the House

Disclaimer: I am not Jim Henson, George Lucas, David Bowie, Jennifer Connelly, or any one of the wonderful people who had something to do with the filming the movie Labyrinth. I also make no money from fanfics. I guess that makes us even.

**Chapter 1 **

**Moping About the House**

Sarah came crashing through the front door, late as usual. And as usual, she had a perfectly good excuse that her stepmother did not want to hear. "I can explain!" she breathed frantically.

Tapping her foot in the kitchen was her stepmother. "I was afraid you weren't going to make it, Sarah," groused the blonde woman. "Which would have been very inconsiderate, especially after the discussion we had last night."

_Last night?_ Sarah wracked her brain. _Last night was the Labyrinth and Toby, and a commanding King who slipped in and out of sight like the dreams he was made of… In what way, does she have anything to do with that?_

Then, remembering the argument, she nodded to show her understanding. Before her parents had left for the evening, she had fought with the pretentious blonde woman, and the hurtful words exchanged had been what upset her in the first place. Of course. How could she have forgotten?

To be fair, her stepmother had every right to be angry. She was late. It was kindness, in a way, that the elder woman still gave Sarah the benefit of the doubt, and that she still seemed upset when her wayward stepchild failed to live up to expectations. Usually Sarah was _hours _late, instead of minutes. If her past actions had created a pattern of pre-determined frustration in her stepmother, then it was no one's fault but her own.

Nodding again, Sarah smiled weakly and swallowed down her excuse. Today, as the saying went, was the first day of the rest of her life. And after her time in the Labyrinth, she was not going to take life for granted; she was going to make it count. First, Sarah would make amends with Toby. Then, she would repair the relationship with her father and stepmother. Next came school – she would pull her grades up without fail! She would never look back. No moping was allowed. After her incredible quest in the Labyrinth, she had been given a precious opportunity to party with her friends one final time. One last dance, before she had to put the trappings and toys of her childhood away. Yes, Hoggle had said she could call on him, whenever he was needed… yet, she knew this was not the lesson she needed to take away from her adventure. If there was one thing she had learned, it was that she had to grow up! Her childishness hurt others and herself.

Although, she really _did _have a good excuse for being late today. She had been so tired after running the Labyrinth, both emotionally and physically – and then there had been the party with Hoggle, Sir Didymus, Ludo and the others… By the time she had finished her tearful goodbyes, cleaned the room, and readied for bed, she estimated she had been awake for nearly thirty-six hours straight. Not all that time had been spent in one world, and not all the time had been accounted for on her desk clock, but the experience had been continuous for her. She felt drained, just thinking about it. Twelve hours of sleep might have restored her, fourteen would have been better, so naturally she had gotten only two. School didn't wait for her timetable to rearrange itself.

As the Goblin King had so aptly pointed out, life wasn't fair.

Dragging herself out of bed that morning, she had wearily scrubbed the shadows from her eyes and plodded to school, only to receive a tardy slip. Due to her aforementioned habitual lateness, this meant that she had been forced to serve detention after school, thereby making her late to babysit Toby _again_.

Would telling her stepmother about a tardy slip really make things better? No, no. Best to stay silent.

The blonde rattled her keys to check their location and quickly strode to the door with a manila folder full of papers. Yanking it open, she muttered something about lateness and gave Sarah a dark look. Sarah sighed heavily. Hopefully, the woman would be on time for the courtroom hearing. Her father and stepmother were both lawyers, and both were constantly busy. Neither had an outlandish salary, yet the family paid its bills on time and lived in a nice, big house in suburbia with a private lawn.

A nice, big house that her stepmother garishly decorated in disgusting flower prints…

As she heard her stepmother drive away, Sarah rolled her eyes at the drab brown wallpaper in the kitchen. It was covered in white and orange flowers. Even the wall hangings sported flower prints. But the pictures were not colorful, lovely, enticing watercolors. No, they were clinical, sterile depictions of various plant types. These wall hangings looked like a botanical study, an Audubon collection of prints - ugly and unromantic.

Was it any wonder that she had wanted to escape this place for so long?

With a wry smile, Sarah marched upstairs to check on Toby, before she started her homework. And then... it would be time to dust off the cardboard boxes in the attic and pack away her childhood belongings. A sharp pang pierced her chest, when she wondered what her room would look like, without her dreams inside it anymore.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Later that night, she finally finished her self-appointed task and collapsed backward onto her bed. The springs creaked as wearily as her joints did, and she laid a hand over her eyes. How long had she been awake? This would make about forty-eight hours of work, with only two hours of rest in the middle. She was so tired!

Falling asleep almost instantly, she hoped not to wake up in the middle of the night. Her room looked different now, without the majority of her toys and belongings, and Sarah knew her semi-conscious mind would be frightened of the place. So… no midnight snacks, or bathroom breaks were allowed. If she could sleep straight through the night, then on the morrow, everything would be all right. Tomorrow she could go to the mall, buy the poster of a famous movie star, and nail it up in place of her shelves of teddy-bears. Tomorrow she would buy new clothes to replace the costumes she had hastily thrown away today. Tomorrow she would become the normal teenage girl that her stepmother always wanted.

The last thought made her shudder, until she forcibly reminded herself it was her wish too. This was what the Labryinth had taught her – Grow up! Family comes first! Worldly possessions can weigh you down if you take on too many of them. It was decided, then. She would set the toys aside for Toby, once he was old enough.

In her mind's eye, she saw the window of her room and realized she could see herself. Through the window, she was partying with her friends, and Sir Didymus was just pulling out the Scrabble board. And sitting on a branch beside the glass was a snowy-colored barn owl, eyes trained on her form, as she played with the goblins. His goblins. The owl blinked slowly, once, then ruffled his feathers and took flight, soaring toward the moon.

_Sarah_… There was no mistaking that voice, irritated and patient, maddening and soothing at the same time. Yet he sounded sad to her ears now. _Everything in moderation, Sarah. Even courage, even joy and despair – or did my Labyrinth teach you nothing?_

With a gasp, Sarah sat up in bed. It was morning already, and sunlight streamed into the room, illuminating her clock. Time to get up for school. Luckily, she was still dressed, although she was shivering from the cold, having forgotten to crawl beneath the covers last night.

It had only been a dream. Still, she couldn't help glancing at the branch where the barn owl had rested. Had he truly been there, helplessly watching, as she celebrated her successful victory over the Goblin King? She had never thought of him at all, never suspected that the owl might circle back to her tree after leaving by the front door. Why should he? They were enemies, and she had beaten him, fair and square. There was no cause for remorse like she had seen in the barn owl's gaze. Hatred maybe, but sadness? It had all been an act, to trick her, to make her stay and surrender Toby. He never actually cared; his final few words had proven that. 'Fear me, love me, do as I say, and I shall be your slave,' what kind of a proposal was that? Bleh!

Shaking her head to clear the cobwebs from her mind, she stumbled into the bathroom and brushed her teeth, determined to avoid thinking about the Goblin King. It was over. She had made her decision, and she would stick to it. Starting today, she would focus on the future.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Jareth was depressed. He didn't want to admit it to himself, of course, so he kicked a large number of goblins in the head and stomped his boots on the sandstone floor a great deal, attempting to delay the inevitable self-doubt and questioning. But in truth, he was not himself. He had not been his usual self, since he had first seen… her. A cousin had invited him to a mortal theater play, and he had beheld a brunette beauty on stage. Sarah's mother, an actress of minor repute at the time, had been the lead in that play, and after the show he had followed his cousin to a ridiculous, human party at her house. There had been tasteless alcohol and tasteless loud music, and he had sequestered himself in the backyard, seeking relief from the clamor and stuffiness indoors.

He had not been _hiding_. Avoiding a noisy party merely had been his way of demonstrating his superiority over the humans. Frolicking in the Aboveground had never been his idea of fun. He much preferred puzzles, gardens, and crystals. Bossing people around and outwitting them made him feel powerful and smart, so he loved his job. Growing flowers and cutting the hedges in his Labyrinth was relaxing. And amusing himself with the occasional fae courtesan who threw herself across his path in hopes of gaining favor clearly satisfied his needs. What else was there? Honestly, he had been perfectly happy with his lot in life, before he saw her.

The moon had come out, and by its light, he had seen the form of a tiny human girl. Bathed in the soft glow of moonlight, she had seemed unearthly, huddled beneath a withering tree, her green eyes as black as pitch in the darkness. Before he knew it, he was kneeling by her side. _Mama told me to stay in bed, _she whispered guilelessly, _But I wanted to see the Halloween costumes. Now I can't go back upstairs, or she'll see me. _

And despite what the stories said, Jareth actually liked children. He was good with them too – he had to be, lest his castle fill to the brim with screaming, crying tiny tots every day. The Labyrinth's magic transformed a mortal,if one stayed too long in the Underground, but for the brief remainder of that babe's mortal life, the child wanted for nothing.

_Pff, there's an easy solution to that, _the Goblin King had said, taking the little girl's hand. _We jump!_ On the count of three, they had leapt straight up in the air, and to girl's delight and confusion, they had not fallen back to earth. Landing gently on the roof, he had carried her down to her bedroom window and tucked her into bed.

_Will you come back?_ she had asked hopefully, plaintively. At the time, he had not understood her desperation. A little slip of a girl, mostly ignored by her selfish, glamorous mother who took an acting career more seriously than her family. A child passed back and forth between her parents until her father remarried, gifting her with yet another self-serving mother, full of vanity and pride, who wanted her even less than the first. Later, a teenager with low self-esteem and unanswered demands, who threw herself headfirst into every activity she did, even when the world gave her a lukewarm reception.

_I may only come one night a year, _he had promised, _but I will return._

Perhaps it was his fault that Sarah had become such a flighty creature. He had never made good on his promise to return one Halloween in his real form, but watching her as an owl, he had grown rather found of the cheeky little brunette. She did not have the worst of families, but it was a far cry from his regal upbringing in the Underground. As he grew to understand her loneliness, he had started sending her small gifts. Flowers, that sprouted for her in winter. Toys, that reflected the faces and facets of his Labyrinth. Even a few goblins had contributed – which was how a grotesque blue 'Goblin King' figurine had ended up on her vanity one year. He still vowed to annihilate whoever had sent that hideous impersonation.

Yet Sarah had cherished it, and a small seed had planted itself in his mind. If she were to be wished away to the Labyrinth… no one in her family would rescue her. They wouldn't believe in the words they spoke – they would never even remember it had happened. And Sarah would be happy in his care, like a daughter he had never had. He would see that the Labyrinth did not transform her into a goblin, but rather a nymph or fae. It wouldn't be hard. No one in the Underground would have to know.

Modifying a volume of the Labyrinth's history from his personal library, he had sent it Above. It had been a nicely laid trap, but for one crucial element. When the child had found the red, leather-bound book on her chair, she had smiled happily and searched for her father. Her father was the only one who did kind things for her, so she assumed that he had bought the book. But he was out of town on business. With a slight frown, little Sarah had asked her stepmother to read the bedtime story next, instead of her father, the one who normally did such things. Her stepmother had virulently refused, pushing the ten-year old up the stairs, insisting that a girl her age should not have bedtime stories anymore.

And that had been the end of Jareth's plan. Sarah had read the book alone, with a flashlight under her covers. Silently. Without speaking the words the goblins needed to hear to take someone away. How ironic – he had tried to twist kindness to suit his needs, but ultimately it was cruelty which had prevented him from stealing the girl away from her parents.

Even more ironic – as the years passed, the book had become her favorite. She had acted out the passages like a play, imitating her flamboyant, biological mother. Unfortunately for Jareth, she always had concentrated on the story's end, gladly pretending to be a brave heroine, and she never had bothered to read the opening aloud.

Wondering exactly when his interest in the girl had switched from mild to obsessive, Jareth leaned on the back of his throne and stared into the depths of an empty crystal. Had it been when he first conceived of a plan to whisk her away to his domain? Or had it been when the stepmother gave birth to a child of her own, and he had realized there was another way to bring Sarah to his kingdom, a risky but viable alternative?

He had been running out of time. Sarah was fourteen when Toby was born, and the King knew that once she attained maturity, he would have no hope of reaching her from the Underground. It was rare for an adult to believe in the supernatural to the extent necessary for passage between worlds. The only reason Sarah adhered to her childhood fantasies was because Jareth's gifts allowed her to. Forced her to, in fact. He had veritably showered her possessions with magic, praying that the tiniest bit would stay with her, so she would see the unseen for just a little while longer.

And his plan had worked. One night, she had read Toby an angry fairy tale and had spoken the magic words from his red, leather-bound book. With just enough magic and faith left in her blood, the Labyrinth had allowed her to enter rather than forget the child outright.

But his plan had failed too. Sarah had clung to the premise of the book so strongly that she had left the Labyrinth behind, and she had never seen past the illusion to the truth of the maze. The land fit itself to the expectations of its user, evolving in an endless stream of magic and power. By assuming that the maze (and the King) would act a certain way, it was so.

He had tried to explain, to no avail. _Everything you wanted, I have done… I'm exhausted from living up to your expectations!_ Perhaps he was simply bad with words. It was distinctly possible, considering the company he kept. Why couldn't the rotten children have higher intelligence levels, when they were transformed into Goblins?

Now in a fit of temper, he shattered the crystal on the other side of the throne room. He would never have written those bloody lines into the stupid fairy tale, if he thought they were going to be used against him! He had planned for the book to be used against _her,_ by one of her careless parents. The remainder of the story was merely a transcript from his library, a relic from when a medieval lady had once defeated the maze. It shouldn't have made a difference – only the conviction behind the words mattered, and he knew without a doubt, he _knew_, that Sarah had wanted to stay. She hadn't meant what she said. Her words _– you have no power over me? –_ they had shocked her, even as she spoke them.

Yet it had been enough for the Labyrinth to send her away. The words had instilled skepticism, a fissure in the wall of her faith, and she had lost the requisite belief in magic to stand in the Underground. She was too old. He had to give up.

But he couldn't. Not after hearing her tearful plea to Hoggle – _I need you!_ Not after feeling her warmth as they danced in the ballroom, her cheek only a breath away from his own and her body pliant in his arms. Not after seeing her yearning, as he offered her dreams in the shape of a crystal and she gazed into his eyes instead, as though she might find her hopes there.

When had his feelings for her changed? At first, she had been intriguing. Then, he had wanted to protect her from the harsher realities of life, even going so far as to consider her a pet daughter. But as she had challenged his maze, his feelings toward her had been… not at all parental.

What did it mean? That he was a bad conversationalist? Possibly. That she was a fool not to accept his offer? Certainly! At the very least, however, it was clear that he didn't understand Sarah as well as he had once thought. If he could not figure out what she truly desired and thereby entice her back into the Underground, before her belief in magic disappeared completely, then he would lose. He wasn't sure what he would lose, precisely, but he hated losing, and so he would not.

Sarah _would _return to the Underground. And this time, she would stay forever.


	2. The Hall of Dreams

Author's Note: Yes, it's cliché so far. All Jareth/Sarah Labyrinth stories are similar to a point. Hopefully mine is entertaining enough to read.

**Chapter 2 **

**The Hall of Dreams**

Trying to force her thoughts away, so that she could fall asleep, Sarah tossed and turned in her bed. The changes in her life kept coming back to haunt her though. The days seemed longer now, since she had defeated the Labyrinth. School dragged on, her life remained the same, and all her lofty, post-adventure goals seemed for naught. Although she had tried to buy new, fashionable clothes to replace the ones she threw out, her stepmother had refused to loan her money. Oddly enough, she had never expected this. The woman was always going on about how Sarah should act her age and date boys, but when she had suggested a friendly 'mother-daughter' shopping trip, her stepmother had wanted no part of it.

"What do you mean you need a new winter coat?" she had asked, cutting Sarah off in the preliminary stages of her request. "What happened to your pink one, with the fairies on it?"

Apparently, careful planning and controlled changes were even more important to her stepmother than getting rid of Sarah's childish toys and clothes.

So, now she found herself in the early winter months, without a coat. It was cold, but she figured it was her own fault for not checking with her parents before she took a rash action. She had made an assumption – something the Labyrinth had taught her not to do– when she guessed her stepmother would help her buy 'grown-up' clothes. Now, she had barely anything to wear to school.

One good thing had come of the experience, at least. She appreciated Toby more, even if he didn't appreciate her. He constantly cried when she picked him up, but by giving him stuffed animals, she mollified him quite a bit. Often she would cuddle him to her chest and wonder why she ever wished such an adorable little brother away.

Her parents still expected her to baby-sit every weekend while they went on romantic dates, and every afternoon while her father and stepmother worked long hours at their respective law firms. Proud of her duties now instead of resentful, one morning she happily informed her parents that she had been on time to baby-sit for two weeks straight. Her father smiled at her enthusiasm. But her stepmother scoffed into her coffee, announcing that she would believe it when she saw it happen. Sarah had wondered why the woman couldn't see what was right before her eyes.

It was strange that her stepmother remained disappointed in her, even when she was trying to please. Hadn't the stumbling blocks in their relationship always been her childishness and selfish tantrums? Yet although she had fixed the problem, her family seemed no happier to see her. Perhaps she had been a spoiled brat for so long that it would take time for anyone to notice the difference.

With this in mind, Sarah eagerly accepted every new opportunity that came along to prove herself to her stepmother. For example, when the blonde asked her to start preparing dinners every evening, she jumped at the chance. Having a meal ready when the others returned from a hard day of work wasn't too much to ask.

But her efforts never seemed to pay off. After working for an hour in the kitchen, she had overcooked the green beans, turning them into colorless goop. Then, the cake batter had failed to rise. Since it had been her first try, she had hoped her parents would allow for a lack of culinary skill. Sure enough, her father had praised her effort. Her stepmother, however, had criticized the mess in the kitchen and told her to make her own dinners from then on, to practice on herself. As a result, Sarah hadn't eaten anything but cereal and chips in several weeks. Once again, her stepmother was right – it was much harder to eat her own food-failures than it was to watch others gag them down with a smile.

Thus, she often felt hungry, as well as cold. It was no one's fault but her own, she surmised. Still, it made life a bit depressing.

Worse still, she felt as though she had no home anymore. Her room had been a sanctuary – a place to go and unwind from the pressures of school, baby-sitting, or in-laws. But now, when her stepmother snapped at her, she had no buffer zone. No way to block out the criticism and pretend her life was different or better than it was. No reason to pretend she was special. And it pained her to realize she was not at all special. A cold hard truth lay behind her average grades, her lack of friends or acting skills, and her distant family – the fact was Sarah Williams just wasn't good enough.

She spent a great deal of time in the attic, running her hands over her old toys, ones that Toby hadn't needed, and trying to restore a connection with her old self. This, she insisted privately, was not a childish thing to do. It was simply that she felt _warmer _there. When she touched her old things, it was as if a spark flared to life inside of her, rejuvenating her spirit. Sometimes she wondered if the toys felt betrayed, sitting alone in a dark box in the cold. But that wasn't a childish thought either, no, it was simply friendly concern. They had been her friends for many years, and she had packed them away, punishing them for no reason. The toys deserved a spare thought, now and again. She felt drawn to them, like a moth to a flame.

Yet the dreams disturbed her the most. Hoggle and Ludo seemed so sad without her. She hadn't realized they would miss her as much as she missed them, but in the dark of night she glimpsed their faces every now and again, somber and drawn and tired. And each time she saw inside the Labyrinth, it was raining. Every morning she would remind herself that a month's long rain could get anyone down, that they weren't sad because of her, and that _no_ she wasn't going to call on them, ever again. If she did, her resolve would shatter, and she would relapse in to being the selfish, dependent Sarah that she had once been. It was better this way; she was noble and giving, self-sacrificing. She didn't even mind when her stepmother called her names. She was strong and independent, and…

She was a big, fat liar.

Rolling over in bed, Sarah gave up trying to sleep and stared at the ceiling in despair. Maybe the Labyrinth hadn't changed her after all. She wavered between wondering if the whole experience had been a dream and believing she was still there, trapped in the Junk Lady's room, aching to return to the real world. She was equally unhappy in either place. When she was with her family, she wanted to be with Hoggle and her goblin friends instead. When she dreamt that she was with them, however, she desperately struggled to return to her normal life.

Was she insane? On the one hand, she had ample evidence that her entire adventure in the Labyrinth had merely been a long, involved dream. Her toys, the Escher poster on her wall, even the Labyrinth storybook – all these things suggested that she had imagined the incident, fabricating the events and characters through her possessions. On the other hand, Hoggle had seemed so real! Nothing she had ever daydreamed or imagined before came close to the majesty of the maze. But the only way to ensure she was not crazy was to break her vow and summon her friends. Could she risk it?

Closing her eyes, she drifted back into slumber, half-anticipating and half-dreading the faces of her friends.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Bit by bit, the image slid into place. Darkness surrounded her, and the smell of roses and irises tickled her nose, as the sound of a trickle of water began to creep through her consciousness. Letting go, she watched as an image formed fuzzily before her eyes. But this time, it was not Hoggle's form she viewed. Nor Sir Didymus, nor Ludo. This time, she saw…

"Jareth," she hissed. "Now I know it's not a dream. Why would I dream about _you_?"

"Why indeed?" grinned the Goblin King insidiously. As usual, he was outrageously dressed. He wore a glittering red vest with a loose, ruffled cotton shirt beneath it, complemented by dark black tights and boots. Sarah tried to scoff at his horrible fashion sense, but unable to think of a suitable, scathing comment, she was reduced to staring at his chest instead. Er… his eyes. Yes. Eyes, not chest, thank you. No, better yet, his nose. That was a far more platonic subject.

"Hey, wait a minute," Sarah protested, her gaze narrowing. This dream felt more solid than the others… Nervously, she looked around their enclosure with a sense of foreboding. "I defeated you; why are you here? Leave me alone."

"It is not about defeat or victory," he replied smoothly, "All that matters is challenging the self."

"Ah. The journey not the destination," she sneered, "Sorry, but I've heard that before, so I'm just going to go…"

But when she turned away there was no escape from the dream. It had wrapped itself around her and she was trapped inside of it. Just like before, the Labyrinth had wormed its way into her consciousness. Snapping her attention back to the man in tights, she glared and prepared a tirade, even as a small part of her heart cheered at the thought of returning here. But really, it was the principle of the thing. Kidnapping was illegal!

Catching her off guard, he finished his previous thought, after a short pause. "That is why I propose a new challenge for you, Sarah. Only this time, there will be no rules, and nothing at stake."

_Huh?_ Her brain could not think of a rational response to his offer. It simply did not sound like something the Goblin King would say. What was the point of playing a game, if there was nothing at stake? Had he finally grasped the concept of good-sportsmanship? Surely, this was too much to ask.

"What?" she replied timidly, her mouth echoing her mind's lack of inspiration.

"This place is the Hall of Dreams," he informed her regally, as though he were quite pleased with his pronouncement. "It is within the Labyrinth but not, I think, directly a part of it. While you are here, whatever you desire becomes reality." Waving one hand in demonstration, he pulled a peach out of thin air, before he remembered that this might not go over well and quickly denied the peach existence with a frown.

At the sight of the dreaded fruit, Sarah slowly backed away from him, biting her lower lip. Naturally, this made her even more adorable, but sadly it also reminded him just how young she was. Jareth cursed internally and tried to begin the conversation with a lighter tone. "You try it," he encouraged the girl, "It's really quite fun."

"Um…" Sarah stalled, as she frantically searched the area for an escape. As usual, any conversation with the Goblin King was both unsettling and unhelpful.

They were standing in a long, thin garden that stretched straight up the side of a hill. A high wall made of sandstone bricks stretched skyward on all sides, and above it she glimpsed the distant, lush trees from the Forest of the Labyrinth. Comfortable green hedges grew low against the sandstone perimeter, and a gravel pathway paralleled the wall, next to the shrubbery.

In the middle of the enclosure, a beautiful garden attracted her attention, surrounding a series of tiny waterfalls. The waters trickled casually over artfully placed stones on the hill, before mysteriously vanishing into the ground at the bottom of the incline. Unfortunately though, she saw no doorway exiting the garden.

This placed very highly on Sarah's list of worrisome things. "Um…" she muttered again, disconcerted by the fact that Jareth, King of Goblins, high-and-mighty, insufferably sarcastic magical being from the Underworld, was being nice. Furthermore, he claimed this place wasn't actually part of the Labyrinth. If that was his way of saying there was no way in or out of the place, because it didn't _connect _to the rest of the maze, then she was in serious trouble. How was she supposed to get home?

"What am I supposed to do?" Sarah inquired, guessing that a direct approach would be fastest.

A ghost of a smile crept back to the Goblin King's face. Good, she was going to participate, and she would not waste time railing about the injustice of it all or insisting that he take her home. After all, he was being extremely generous with his time and the resources of his Labyrinth. It was only polite of her to cooperate.

"You will have one hour to walk around the track, in its entirety. During that time, you may use the special abilities of the Hall of Dreams as much as you wish. As I mentioned before, it generates anything you desire, instantly. All you must do to realize your dreams, in this place, is to envision them." Jareth beamed at her grouchy, dubious expression, watching as Sarah scoured the walls of the enclosure, clearly hunting for an exit. Honestly, the girl was so easy to read. And so delightful, when she was angry.

But no, he could not afford to incur Sarah's wrath today. His purpose was simply to learn more about her. After offering her everything (that he thought) she could want, she had spurned him and returned to a dismal, dreary mortal life. Yet, she had been unhappy to leave his Labyrinth. He could see it in her eyes and hear it in her voice; he knew she had wanted to stay. Briefly, he wondered what she would have said, if he had promised to release Toby in return for her obedience. Would his offer have been acceptable, if he had not tried to keep them both?

Today, he would find out what she _really_ wanted and where he had gone wrong. Relishing the moment, he benignly instructed her, "At the end of one hour, you must return to this spot. Whatever possessions you carry with you as you exit the garden will become real. The goblins will deliver them to your home, and when you wake in the morning, they will be yours. If you fail to return to the beginning in an hour, then you return home empty handed. Quite a _generous_ deal, isn't it?" Emphasizing the word, knowing that she would respond, Jareth smirked when she whirled to face him once more.

Staring at the Goblin King incredulously, Sarah sputtered, "I can go home either way? I just walk around for an hour, and then go home? What's the catch?"

"Catch?" Jareth asked, unfamiliar with the term.

"Yes," she continued firmly. "What happens if I just sit here for an hour and don't move? Can I still go home?"

"Of course," the Goblin King calmly assured her, "You would merely forfeit your rights to any of the Hall's creations."

"For now, or for all time?" pressed the girl, determined to find the fine print in this invisible contract. She had learned caution from her last trip to the Labyrinth.

"For now…"

Waving her finger at him menacingly, Sarah imagined how satisfying it would be to poke him in the middle of his stupid, fluffy, ruffle-infested shirt. Jareth flinched, immediately feeling a spiritual nudge from the garden as it obeyed her wishes. "What if I don't want anything?" she continued, failing to notice anything amiss. "Hah!"

"Then, the flowers may enjoy an hour of your company. Note that I say '_may_ enjoy.' It is not at all certain."

"Ooooh!" Sarah squealed, practically livid. But the infuriating man had already vanished.


	3. The Source

**Chapter 3**

**The Source**

Alone in the Hall of Dreams, Sarah gradually began to relax. The weather was perfect, with great puffy clouds wafting their way through the clear blue sky. Of course, if she had stopped to think about it, then the presence of a clear blue sky might have confused her, given that this was supposed to be an Underground kingdom. The book had been very clear on that subject, and the goblins had even sung about it. Perhaps the term 'Underground' merely referred to subversive or clandestine – magic going on right in front of people's noses, without anyone realizing what occurred, or something of that sort. Perhaps it was a name for another dimension. Either way, she completely forgot to worry about her location and its relation to the real world, too absorbed by her beautiful surroundings. 

The garden was both neatly trimmed and growing wild. An impossible contradiction, much like the rest of the Labyrinth. Rose bushes stretched as far as the eye could see, at least twice as tall as a man, and as wide around as she could stretch her arms. The thorny plants were old and well-established. Hedges running along the sides of the garden, near the gravel pathway, seemed equally huge and intimidating. Similar to the greenery in the Labyrinth proper, the hedge was taller than she was and rectangular in shape, neatly maintaining a sense of order in an absurd, often irrational land. Yet not a single tip seemed pruned back or forced into place – it was as if the green hedges had grown into cubical, instead of spherical, bulbs. 

Walking slowly up the hill, she decided to try completing one circuit of the track, before her hour was complete. In the back of her mind, she still did not trust the Goblin King, and if he suggested returning to her starting point before the hour was up, then she would do exactly that. But in the meantime, she could explore – as long as she didn't spot any traps or tricks, designed to keep her away from home base. 

A delightful stream trickled slowly down the hill, cascading over rocks in the center of the garden. Discovering she was slightly thirsty, Sarah wondered if the water would be safe to drink, and she ran her hand through the clear water tentatively. Then, shaking her head sadly, she rose – there was no way to trust anything in this garden. Whether officially part of the Labyrinth or not, this place was suffused with magic. She had to be careful. 

Still, she was a bit thirsty. Frowning, she resolved this would be her first test of the powers of the garden. "I wish…" she began tentatively, "I wish I had something to drink?"

A glass goblet appeared at her side. Obviously, she was intended to dip it into the stream and carry through with her earlier thought. "Er… something safe to drink, that won't give me any dreams, compulsions, or delay me for more than a few minutes," she amended quickly. 

Sure enough, the goblet now filled with clear fluid. Apparently, water from the stream would not fit the additional stipulations she had stated. _Hah! _Sarah thought, rather triumphantly, _I knew it! _

Sipping the liquid in the goblet daintily, she relaxed upon tasting the water within it. Nice, safe, normal water. It tasted like it had just been purified by the filter on the kitchen sink. No, it tasted better – it was without any additives or minerals. Pure water. 

_Well, _Sarah smiled humorlessly, _I can take home a bottle of fresh water, if nothing else_. Once she finished its contents, the goblet disappeared, leaving her hands free to touch flowers, as she slowly strolled further up the hill. Only ten minutes had passed so far, according to her watch, and she speculated she could make it to the top of the hill and back within an hour. Looking up, she peered toward the top of the incline. 

A flash of movement drew her attention, hovering over the stream. Squinting, she tried to make out what had distracted her. There it was again! A sparkle of sunlight gleamed at her through the waters of the stream, far overhead. The shimmer of light occurred in a rhythmic pattern, and despite herself, Sarah was intrigued. Surely, she could investigate this mystery and make it back to the foot of the hill in the remaining fifty minutes. Downhill was easier than uphill! 

With this in mind, she jogged briskly up the slope, until she found herself out of breath and winded. The stream narrowed as she climbed, and she could see movement at the top of the hill now, not merely an indistinct gleam of light. Panting for air, she chastised herself for being out of shape and walked the rest of the way. 

Yet as she traveled toward the source of the stream, her steps slowed. From here, she could clearly see what created the movement of light, but the vision did not make any sense. As usual, the Labyrinth had beguiled her completely. 

Atop the highest rock, feet embedded in the earth below, there stood a young girl, pouring pitcher after pitcher of water into the stream. Two vessels rested beside her, and no sooner did she put one down, than she picked the other one up and overturned it into the trickling pool at her feet. The girl's motions were smooth and continuous. Pouring constantly, she never stopped to fill either pitcher before emptying it, and the water caught the sunlight as it splashed into the pool. 

After a moment of captivated puzzlement, Sarah dared to approach and ask what was happening. Things did not always make traditional sense in the Labyrinth; however, there was usually a method behind the madness. She felt compelled to attempt understanding, at the very least. "I don't mean to interrupt," Sarah uttered politely, "But what are you doing?" 

Without even looking up, the girl reached for another jar. "I am filling the stream with water," she murmured as if it were the most natural thing in the world. 

Sarah nodded briefly and pursed her lips. At first, she had thought the stream was emerging from beneath the rocks, but as it had been so aptly pointed out, the stream appeared to be pooling at the girl's feet instead. "Oh, I see," she added with some confusion. "Why?" 

"I am the source," the girl replied with a long-suffering sigh, although Sarah could not guess whether this sigh meant she was tired of conversing or endlessly pouring water. "It's my duty," finished the source, rather morosely. 

Nodding again, Sarah checked her watch and saw she had nearly half an hour left to explore the garden. She could just barely see the base of the hill, and the curve of the gravel pathway as the two sides of the garden met there. Best if she started down, right this instant. 

Water gurgled into the small pool at the top of the hill, dragging Sarah's gaze inexorably back to the source of the stream. 

"What happens if you stop?" she asked curiously. Simply watching such a spectacle made her arms tired – she could only imagine how the girl must feel by this point. Maybe this was why the stream carried magical water; the girl must be a magical being. 

"I have never stopped, so I don't know," replied the maiden honestly, eyes flickering in Sarah's direction for a brief second, then refocusing on her task. "I suppose the stream would run dry." 

"Right," Sarah agreed. A silly question, all things considered. Still, this was a place for wishing, wasn't it? Surely, the young lady must be tired. Why didn't she wish for an assistant, or a way to automatically pour the pitchers, or… "Why not just tip them on their sides?" 

The girl merely smiled and shook her head. "They must stand upright to refill," she explained concisely.

Now, misguided pity had gotten Sarah in trouble during her first trip through the Labyrinth too. If she hadn't sympathized with the Helping Hands, deciding that she didn't want to force them to lift her all the way up that tunnel, then she wouldn't have fallen in to an Oubliette. If she hadn't kissed Hoggle, then she wouldn't have been tossed unceremoniously into a Bog of Eternal Stench by a strangely petulant Goblin King. (That one had confused her. Who in his right mind prohibited people kissing his subjects? But for some reason, there was a ban on such things in the Labyrinth, because Hoggle had already known what would happen when she tried.) 

All the same though, Sarah couldn't find it in her heart to ignore this poor girl's plight. Here was an excellent opportunity to use a wish! In her world, humans had fountains that filled themselves using a system of pumps and pipes. Clouds performed a similar function, cycling water from the earth's surface to the sky and back again. Perhaps one of these solutions would help this young girl. Brainstorming, Sarah tapped her chin and conjectured, "Maybe you could wish for a water wheel to turn the pitchers over for you? Then the stream would run itself. Or wish for a little rain cloud to hover and collect water from the pitchers and drop it in the stream?" 

This time, the girl's eyes rested on Sarah and did not move away. Continuing her duty, without a wasted movement or any sign of faltering, the young woman considered Sarah's words. "As the source, I cannot choose the direction of the stream," she disagreed mildly.

"Ah," Sarah pondered this cryptic comment, so typical of one of the Underground's residents. "So, you need someone to make the wish for you?" 

Judging by the silence that met her remark, this was the correct answer. With a desperate look toward the base of the hill, Sarah determined she could still make it to the starting spot before her hour was over if she ran. There was time to attempt another wish. 

And what a wish it would be. First, she had to create a water wheel farther down the stream, with paddles light enough to turn in a slowly trickling flow of water. Then, a long axle on the wheel, with a gear on the inner side, turning a band of rubber, attached to yet another gear at the top of the hill. Finally, the topmost gear had to turn both pitchers at once. The pitchers would face opposite directions, one straight upward, one straight down, and as the water wheel turned, the gears would overturn the pitchers also. It seemed like a reasonable plan. Oh, wait! A small structure had to house the gears and prevent the whole apparatus from collapsing… Yes, she could do this, it would be a piece of cake! 

Well, perhaps not a piece of cake. 

But certainly it was possible, especially with the magic of the Labyrinth at her disposal. Closing her eyes, Sarah envisioned her creation piece by piece and imagined what substances to use for each part. Then, she carefully began her wish, specifying all building materials and how each piece was to fit together. As she spoke, a pressurized wall of magic built beside her, and opening her eyes, she observed the water mill form right in front of her. Much easier to engineer projects, she decided, when one utilized magic.

With a huge grin, she spun to face the nameless girl at the top of the hill. The maiden was still performing her appointed task, but the flow of water was no longer smooth. Her hands shook, and the pitchers emptied too fast, creating ripples in the stream as their watery contents dumped onto the rocks. The girl's eyes grew large with surprise as she viewed the ungainly wooden construct to her right. 

Moving to her side, Sarah stood and explained the theory behind the water wheel, and outlined her plan for attaching the pitchers to the final axle at the top of the hill. "As soon as you finish pouring," Sarah conjectured, "Instead of putting the pitcher on the ground, this time, slip it onto the axle facing straight up, and I'll wish for something to hold it in place. Then, you pour the other one and repeat, the moment the first pitcher is facing down into the pool." 

Giving her an extremely dubious look, the girl considered Sarah's words. The water wheel rotated gently, and Sarah checked to make sure these wish-generated, wooden gears were turning at the same speed as the girl emptied her vessels. It would do no good to under-perform or outpace the stream. 

Eventually though, she grew slightly impatient. Her water-wheel was functioning perfectly, yet the girl continued to hesitate. It was a good idea. She had worded the wish scrupulously, fully conscious of the fact that she would no longer be present to fix any problems that might arise. And on that note, she really had to be going! Envisioning and executing this wish had taken twenty-five minutes, and she had less than five minutes to reach the beginning of the garden path. 

"You don't have to use it," grumbled Sarah, "But I need to leave soon, either way." 

The maiden rose to her full height and inspected her newfound companion. With a gasp, Sarah retreated a step, abruptly afraid. Her eyes seemed soulless; a shifting myriad of blue, with no dark pupils in the center, unfocused and empty. Yet her gaze pierced Sarah deeply. It felt as if something momentous had passed between them, when the girl finally returned to the task at hand. 

"All right," the strange girl replied at last with quiet acceptance. And the next time she drained a pitcher, she held it directly above the languidly rotating axle, releasing the porcelain vessel to rest in midair. 

Shaking her head to clear it of surprise, Sarah quickly wished for a clasp to hold the container onto the axle as planned. There was no time to delay, otherwise she might throw off the water-girl's rhythm, and somehow this seemed a very bad idea. So, studiously ignoring the fact that this pitcher floated quite well on its own, without any need of support, Sarah completed her wish. 

Once the second pitcher was in place, she stepped back to admire her work. Everything had gone rather well in the end. Even the maiden seemed mildly impressed… 

Immediately, the girl sat down on the rocky hillside and tucked her legs underneath her figure, tapping first one and then the other pitcher in succession, as they slowly turned themselves over and over, in place. Only one hand was involved in this action, while the other hand rested in her lap, and overall her demeanor seemed more relaxed now. Sarah, on the other hand, furrowed her brow in confusion. 

"Excuse me," she cordially inquired, nonplussed by this development, "I don't mean to pry, but is touching them really necessary?" 

"My touch allows them to replenish," the girl answered blandly, without looking up again. 

Only one minute remained on the clock. 

"Oh, good grief," muttered Sarah, throwing her hands in the air. She had managed to fritter away an hour helping someone who did not want and could not accept her assistance. "Great, that's just fabulous!" 

Stomping her way down the hill, she realized belatedly that she would have liked to spend more time in the garden. All sorts of wishes were popping into her head now, right and left. A winter coat, for instance. That would have been nice to have. Or a toy for Toby. A car, perhaps. A million dollars. But no! Now she had only thirty seconds to make it to the base of the hill – which was impossible to do on foot – or else she couldn't take any of these wishes with her. 

Inspiration struck at last, and with only fifteen seconds to go, she remembered where she was. "I wish for a door to take me to the beginning of the garden path," she said breathlessly. 

Before her, the door appeared, and she yanked it open, peering through to ensure she wouldn't fall out of the sky or something dreadful like that. The gravel pathway at the foot of the hill lay beyond the portal calmly, as if to mock her disbelief. It had been her wish, after all. The door led exactly where she chose. 

Jumping through the door, she closed it behind her and watched as it disappeared. Ten seconds left. Sarah Williams closed her eyes and imagined the most sumptuous, woolen winter coat she could dream up, with silk lining, and a light-powdery-pink color that she admired. A white scarf and mittens to go along with it, and it would have metal buttons in the shape of celtic knots, and… 

"Time's up," Jareth interrupted her train of thought snootily. In truth, he was bit miffed. He had been standing here, watching as she came through the illusory door, and she hadn't even deigned to notice him. The brunette had simply thrown herself through the door like a madwoman, scrunched her eyes closed, and proceeded to turn quite red in the face. It wasn't the reception for which he had hoped. 

A pale pink coat fell out of the sky and plunked itself on top of Sarah's head, as she spluttered and whirled to face the Goblin King. Scrambling to uncover her head, heavily weighed down by a wooly, pink impediment, she stuffed the coat tightly between her arms and then glared at him, as if the entire ordeal was his fault in the first place. 

Technically, it was. 

However, that did not keep him from biting back a smile. "And did the lady enjoy herself?" he inquired brightly, noting how her hair stuck up on the right side of her head where she had dragged the coat over it, charging the hairs with static in the process. 

Sarah merely clutched her new coat more tightly to her chest. Since she hadn't really finished making her wish… what if the garment was only partially finished? "You promised I would get to keep anything I wished for, as long as I returned to the starting point in an hour," she replied, worry tingeing her voice. 

"But of course," he answered, as he gallantly waved a portal into existence in front of her. "Once you walk through this door, you will find yourself at home. Your wishes will travel with you, whether intangible or in physical form." 

His tone was so placating and kind that she wondered if his words had an alternate meaning. Nevertheless, she knew she would take that chance. If she could truly carry away a piece of the Labyrinth, if she could bring her adventures to life in some small way, then she could afford to pay his price. Even if taking an object from the Hall of Dreams became a trap of some kind, it would be worth it to know this place was real. To touch and see and smell a little piece of magic, in the real world, every day. It was worth the risk. 

So, without saying thank you and without a backward glance, she walked through the portal.


	4. Two Steps Forward, One Step Back

**Chapter 4**

**Two Steps Forward, One Step Back **

Jerking awake, Sarah shot up in bed. She was back in her own room. It was still dark outside, the middle of the night, and moonlight placidly gleamed through her bedroom window. Tossing her feet over the edge of the bed, she thought she heard a scuttling, scurrying noise underneath her bed. But before she could investigate it, the soles of her feet touched onto something soft and warm. There, beneath her toes was a lovely woolen coat that appeared light gray in the dim light of the moon.

It was real! Dropping to her knees, she gripped the fabric fast. It was real, it was real, it had all been real…

Her previous doubts about her experience in the Labyrinth fell away, stripped off of her like dead leaves pulled away by a rake, and she abruptly felt younger again. With a deep breath, she tiptoed to the wall and switched on her bedroom lamp, inspecting her new coat in the electric light. The colors weren't quite as brilliant anymore, but perhaps that was a product of viewing the fabric under a man-made lamp. At least the coat was complete – no half-finished sleeves, or missing hems – and slipping it on her shoulders, she smiled to discover that it fit perfectly, like it had been tailored specifically for her.

Pushing her arms through the sleeves, she gathered the material around her and drank in its warmth. Her smile grew wider. Then, she noticed an odd bulge in one of the pockets and her expression faded into concern. She hadn't wished for anything aside from the coat. In fact, she could not remember wishing for pockets at all, although it was undeniably nicer to have a coat with pockets than without them.

Cautiously, she slid one hand into the pocket, while using the other to hold it open to see what was inside before she actually came into contact with it. Something furry and dark brown met her eyes. _What on earth?_ thought Sarah, startled. _It might bite. _

When the object did not move or attack her, she finally felt brave enough to pull it out of the confines of the coat pocket. A soft, squishy teddy bear greeted her with a stitched on smile. She stared in disbelief. _How did that get there?_

Thinking back, she could only recall wishing for a coat. The Goblin King might have slipped something into her pockets while she was not looking. But, in the panic of her last few seconds in the Labyrinth, perhaps she had wished for something else. It was possible. At one point, the idea of wishing for a toy had crossed her mind. She had planned to give a gift to Toby. There was no telling how specific a wish had to be in the Hall of Dreams, in order to obtain the desired object, so maybe this was an item she had created.

Both were distinct possibilities.

Gently depositing the plush bear on her dresser, in front of the mirror, she decided to keep it for further observation. If the toy seemed harmless, then after a week or so, she could risk giving it to Toby. Meanwhile, it would be good to have a stuffed animal in her room again. Not that she had missed her own toys…

Well, okay. Maybe she had missed them a little.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Summertime in the Labyrinth stretched on, and the Goblin King became ever more unhappy with the gorgeous weather they were having. Usually when he was downcast, the weather would echo his mood. For instance, when Sarah had callously rejected his original offering, a crystal containing her dreams, a proposal to stay at his side, his exasperation had taken shape as rumbling thunder. And when the silly girl had refused to call on her friends or speak to him, boxing up the only links she had to her childhood and to magic, he had been miserable. Rain had poured for weeks on end.

But now, for the first time in… ever, really… the weather simply did not match his state of mind. From childhood, elder fae learned to restrain their tempers, putting a check on darker emotions lest disastrous consequences ensue. Sadness was acceptable to a certain extent, since it only brought rain. But anger and despair were unconscionable; one brought earthquakes and the other brought floods and destroyed crops. Yet here he sat, feeling desperately miserable, and the only cloud in sight was on the distant horizon.

Did this mean he was secretly pleased to be rid of her?

The thought made him even more confused and miserable. Who knew the Goblin King's heart was so fickle? He had been watching her for years, before he tricked her into entering the Labyrinth. Then, he had planned to make her happy, to learn what she wanted from life, by observing what she took away from the Hall of Dreams.

Given the chance to have anything she desired instantly, any normal girl would have spent an hour fashioning self-interested wishes. And if Sarah had not trusted him, choosing not to take anything from the experience, then he would have tried again in another form. But in the end, she _had_ made a wish. That was the problem.

She had made exactly one wish, taken only one item away from Hall. It was ludicrous! What kind of person desired nothing more from life than a winter coat? Of all the wishes she could have made, selfish or generous, this was her desire: a coat.

He kicked the steps of the throne room in aggravation, sending one of the sandstone blocks skittering away from the rest. It hit a smallish goblin in the leg, sending the critter (what was his name again? Derwoost?) sprawling onto the floor. The goblin quickly rose and went on its way, blithely ignoring the unprovoked attack by brick. Such things happened on a regular basis.

Catching her empty handed at the end of one hour, Jareth had been encouraged at first, thinking that she wanted for nothing. Nothing tangible, in any case. Then, she had made a wish, and he had realized immediately that he stood no closer to understanding the mind of Sarah Williams than before. A _pink_ coat, of all the god-awful things in this world. Perhaps there was no understanding women.

Still more amused than frustrated, at that point, he had slipped a messenger into the pockets of her coat. It would take whatever form Sarah imagined, but its eyes and ears would belong to the Goblin King. Using his crystals, he could only watch her movement; this way he could hear words and sense her mood as well.

Naturally, her mood was another troublesome topic. It was the exact opposite of his – Sarah was blissfully happy these days. Was she really so pleased to be rid of him?

Glowering at the few remaining goblins in his throne room, he spied a shadow passing across the floor. He whirled to look out the window once more, a gleam of anticipation in his eye; perhaps a storm was approaching? But no, it was just a bird in flight, soaring through a bright, blue, cloudless sky.

It was another perfect day in the Labyrinth.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

By the end of the week, Sarah had resolved the dark brown bear was harmless. Everyday it sat unmoving and unresponsive on her dresser. All in all, it was a well-behaved bear and did not seem overly suspicious or magical. Not that she would have been able to detect its magic, but she felt safe about giving it to Toby once seven full days had passed. After a cooling off period, she decided it must be a relic of her time in the Hall of Dreams. At the last minute, she had accidentally wished a toy for Toby into existence; it was as simple as that.

Plus, if she gave Toby a brand new toy, then she would feel better about taking back Lancelot. She missed her original bear, and most of her other stuffed animals had been relegated to a spot in the attic. It still baffled her how Toby had fallen in love with the only toy she didn't want to part with yet.

Most of all, her decision to give the mysterious brown bear to Toby was based on her newfound sense of assurance that week. Wearing the pale pink coat like armor against ordinary, commonplace thoughts or feelings, she had bolstered her self-confidence enough to try out for the acting club at school. And this time, she had successfully auditioned for a part!

Because her mother had been a famous actress, Sarah had often daydreamed of being one too. Yet the first time she had tried out for the drama club, she had bombed her tryout dreadfully. Telling herself she did a better job when she was alone, she had retreated to practicing plays alone in the park near her house. Later, when her acting skills improved, she had promised herself a second audition, yet never made good on that promise.

Feelings of failure and disappointment buried beneath a thin veneer of teenage independence and self-reliance, Sarah had been like a turtle trapped inside her own shell, until the Labyrinth had forced false bravado to become honest bravery. Still, even the Labyrinth could not permanently improve her attitude, as long as she doubted whether her time there had been real. Now, she knew it had been. She carried a little fragment of it around with her on a daily basis, and it kept her warm, inside and out. Sometimes, she wondered if perhaps she was using this coat as a security blanket, and the whole thing would backfire on her soon. Nevertheless, merely recalling its presence made her feel better in times of need, and she aced her drama club entrance the next time she tried.

Karen had been less than pleased to learn she was joining the drama club. After school practice would take away from her babysitting time, giving her parents less opportunities to work late or go on dates. But her father had smiled encouragingly, and Sarah had guaranteed them both that everything would work out in the end. She offered to pick up additional chores around the house, and a truce was struck between the Williams ladies.

Tonight was one of her babysitting jobs with Toby. Thus, it was a perfect moment to exchange Lancelot for the new brown bear. Knowing it was likely her baby brother would cry about the change, she wanted to be sure her parents were out of the house before she made the switch.

After feeding and changing her little brother, she put him down in the crib in her parents' room, marveling at how heavy he had gotten recently. Pretty soon, the little tyke would outgrow the crib and the family would need a playpen for a rambunctious toddler. "Who's a big boy?" she cooed, ruffling his hair. "That's right! You are!"

Toby reached out his arms for Lancelot, seeing the yellow bear through the bars of his crib on the floor. "Bpht," he pointed, expecting her to solve the problem.

"Your big sister has a better surprise for you," said Sarah, pretending to misunderstand his command, and distracting the blond boy by waving his new toy in the air over the crib. "Look what Sarah has for you!"

As soon as Toby looked up, she scooted Lancelot under the crib with her foot. Out of sight, out of mind, as the saying goes. But her brother began to cry almost immediately, and she suspected her not-so-subtle footwork had been caught, until she saw the direction of Toby's gaze.

Staring at the brown bear in horror, his face scrunched into a hysterical grimace, and he started to wail uncontrollably. "No," protested the teenager desperately, "Stop crying. No need for that. See, it's a nice toy…"

Bringing the bear closer to his squirming figure only made her brother cry harder. Clearly, the shock of a new toy was too much for him. There was nothing scary about a soft, plushy animal. Unless he could sense something she didn't, something strange about this particular bear…

Eyeing the dark brown toy doubtfully, she gave it a hug, testing it for a reaction. Shaking it and squeezing it had no effect either. Finally, she held it up to the light and looked into the little bear's glassy eyes, trying to see whatever it was that alarmed her brother. Still, nothing jumped out at her, or made it look any more remarkable than a plain brown bear.

Meanwhile, Toby had ceased his sobs and was now watching his sister attentively. "Hmm," replied Sarah pensively, "Well, I'll just leave him here, and you can decide what you think of him tomorrow."

Putting the toy on the bedside table, where Toby could see but not reach it, she tucked him in and surreptitiously began to sneak Lancelot out of the room by sliding him along the floor with her shoe. Only when her brother had closed his eyes did she dare to lift her longtime, inanimate friend off the floor. Finally, with a jubilant grin, she placed Lancelot on top of her dresser where he belonged.

Some things one never outgrew. In her first few months back from the Labyrinth, she had gone too far in interpreting its lessons. There was no reason to make herself miserable in an effort to be more mature! As long as she recognized the difference between necessary and superfluous, then she would be fine. Yes, everything was going to be just fine now. She felt sure of it.

Turning toward her vanity mirror, she reached out one hand and brushed her palm along the silvery surface. "Hoggle, Sir Didymus, Ludo…" she breathed reverently, "I need you."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The change began slowly, a subtle transformation in the magical eddies surrounding him. The Labyrinth shifted and sighed, new pathways forming, rivers widening. The intractably good weather should have been his first clue. Summer had already lasted just a bit too long, leaves refusing to wilt when it was their time.

To his credit, Jareth knew something was different almost right away. Unfortunately, the Goblin King did not pinpoint exactly what this _something_ was, until his neighbors sent him an urgent missive, demanding to know why his borders had expanded into their territory without warning. It was very rude, they said. If this continued, others might suppose it signified a hostile invasion.

Only then did he realize how deep the problem went. The Labyrinth was unpredictable and often changed its structure; this was partly why it was so hard to beat. But it never _grew_, unless a fundamental change in its magic had occurred. Too preoccupied with observing Sarah, he had ignored the danger signs until it was too late.

Jareth could barely remember the last time his land had grown in size. According to the historical texts, the Labyrinth had not grown this rapidly since those crazy Minoans had started sacrificing warriors to their bull-god, dumping men and women into the maze on a regular basis. And back then, there had been fewer neighbors. For years now, human challengers in the maze had been few and far between. Without fresh blood and believers to revitalize its magic, the Labyrinth had a tendency to shrink. In fact, if it went too long without challengers, then it would become nothing but a field again, and his castle would lie exposed and unprotected.

He had purposefully drawn Sarah into this place and helped her pass the trials to reach the Goblin City in the center. Still, her coming had only sparked a restructuring of the maze. For the maze to expand beyond the borders of his country, it would have needed to swell for leagues upon leagues.

Perched on the outer wall of the Labyrinth, the Goblin King inspected the land outside the maze with a grim frown. It was true. The meandering network of walls, trees, and magic had drifted quite far from home. The outer wall was shimmering, and in the distance, he could see its stones slowly eating away King Ion's territory.

This should not be happening, but it was. Even now he could feel the magic of the Labyrinth rippling and swirling around him, continuously settling into new patterns. Guessing who had caused this disturbance was easy. Fixing the problem? That might prove difficult.


	5. Watcher and Messenger

**Chapter 5**

**Watcher and Messenger**

All good things come to an end, and so too did the glory of Sarah William's enchanted coat. The very next day, as she packed her schoolbag, preparing to go to lunch, another girl pushed her roughly out of the way as the students filed out of the classroom on exodus. "Oops, I'm sorry," cackled the blonde, and Sarah recognized her as one of the more popular teens in the school. "I didn't see you there."

Being one of the last persons out of the room, this seemed highly unlikely to Sarah, yet for the time-being she wrote it off as simple rudeness. Before her trip to the Labyrinth, the popular girls in the school had always ignored her, and the good-looking high school boys had always seemed to look right through her. Ignorance was bliss, and Sarah still did not think anything had changed between herself and her peers.

And yet, in a subtle way, class dynamics were different now. Before the Labyrinth, Sarah had happily sequestered herself in the library during lunch-period, reading fairytales and fantasy novels. She had found few friends and spent most of her time alone. Ever since she had gone on a magical quest, however, since she had seen mythical creatures and squarely conquered the challenges that faced her, she had gained a certain notoriety amongst other students.

They knew, even if they did not know how or why, that something had changed inside of her. At first, the change had been insignificant; Sarah Williams merely acted less dreamy, sat up straighter in class, and paid heed to the things other people said. But lately, after receiving a coat from the Labyrinth itself, an air of strangeness had settled around Sarah. The pink coat had garnered much more attention than she realized.

Some of the nicer girls had complimented her taste, while the meaner ones had snidely accused her of wearing a designer product to flaunt her vast allowance – not everyone had two lawyers for parents, after all. Sarah's previously shy behavior began to work against her now; unkind voices pronounced her snobbish and rude. And when the Champion of the Labyrinth confidently won a place in the drama club, well… some of the most theatrical girls in the school took notice. A few considered her to be an upstart, trying to take lead roles away from Ashley – the routine female lead in school plays. In fact, Ashley started several of these rumors herself.

With childlike naivete, Sarah failed to see the jealousy of her peers. She had never been subjected to such things before and could hardly be expected to know what to do about it now, in any case. Instead, Sarah focused on the bright future she was building for herself as an actress. After so many years spent obsessing over her starlet mother, she was finally making strides in the same direction! No more reading scripts to empty air in a deserted park – a new Sarah would grasp her dreams single-handedly. Denying her dreams to save her baby brother, while it had instilled a strong sense of responsibility in her, had also been incredibly painful. Sarah was determined never to do it again. Lying to others was one thing; lying to herself was entirely different. _From now on_, she thought clutching the pale-pink wool that fairly reeked of magic about her, _I will be a star!_

Finishing her trip through the lunch-line, Sarah smiled politely at the cashier, and shouldered her pack, glancing around for an empty seat. She could not enter the library, completing her usual lunchtime routine, until she had eaten her food. A small freshman girl that she had chatted with before waved her to sit down, and Sarah relaxed minutely, taking a place at the table beside her. The two girls were not exactly friends, since they had no classes together and they were in different grades. Still, Sarah felt amicable toward the tiny Indian girl. Jayanti had always slightly reminded her of a pixie. Perhaps therein lay the attraction.

A quarter of an hour passed, and both girls had finished their food, then disaster struck. Laughing at a comment her companion had made, Sarah noticed Jayanti's eyes grow wide with surprise, as the girl looked past Sarah's shoulder. "What?" Sarah blinked, turning to see what the other girl had already perceived.

One of the girls from the drama club was walking past their table just as Sarah turned, and she clumsily tripped near to the seat, sending a cup of precariously balanced grape-juice on the corner of her tray flying into the air. It was almost as if the purple liquid moved in slow motion as it surged toward Sarah's head, so terrified was she of the end results. Several thoughts flashed through her head at once – she could dodge, or throw herself directly into the path of the juice, thereby blocking her coat from damage. It lay on the back of the chair, so perhaps it would stay safe!

But in the end, everything was over too quickly for Sarah to move. She blinked as cold, sugary water ran over her head and over the back of her chair, flooding her backpack with grape-juice too. With a shriek, she emptied the textbooks out of her bag and held aloft the dripping pack, staring angrily at the clutzy girl in front of her. "You idiot!" she shouted in frustration.

"Oh!" mouthed the girl, her tone absolutely apologetic and sincere. "I'm so sorry! I didn't see you there, it really was an accident. Here, let me help."

Recognizing the same blonde girl from earlier, who miraculously failed to 'see' her on the way out of the classroom, Sarah felt flabbergasted by her terrible luck. "No, it's okay," she seethed, clenching her teeth shut to refrain from yelling, "Just hand me those napkins. It's fine. You didn't mean to do it."

"Right," the blonde obliged her, before walking away in a rather cavalier fashion for someone who had just been apologizing.

Shaking her coat dry and blotting off the purple juice that was quickly settling into the wool, she shook her head in disbelief. How could this be happening to her? It was a magical coat – perhaps it didn't stain… Then, her scowl deepened, when she recalled the way her tablemate had seen the other girl coming. Why would Jayanti have seemed shocked by the girl's approach unless her actions had been intentional?

A large purple blemish still marked the fabric, even after several napkins had been used to dry her coat, and Sarah quickly gathered her things, waved to her friend, and ran to the restroom. Hot water for juice stains, she remembered, but then her eyes teared up – hot water made wool shrink, didn't it? Surely, she was overthinking this entire event. Cleaning the coat quickly was top priority. It didn't matter whether it was hot or cold water!

Soon, the bathroom cleared out and the bell for afternoon classes rang, and Sarah realized she was going to be late if she didn't hurry. But while her efforts had made some difference, there was still a colorful blotch on the outside of her garment. If she hung the soaking wet fabric in her locker, then it might get rust stains on it in addition. Folding her precious cargo into a rectangle, she wrapped it in paper towels and shoved the coat into her backpack along with the rest of her things.

Maybe Karen would have some kind of soap at home… this wasn't the end of the world, it could be fixed, made like-new again. She was sure of it.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

As usual though, putting too much faith in her step-mother was an exercise in futility. Later that evening, Karen took one look at the stain and coughed scornfully. "Not likely," the older woman grumbled, "Grape-juice is almost as bad as wine – I had to throw away that carpet last year, if you remember."

Sarah did not remember this. Nor did she feel it was a relevant point for her stepmother to be making, when all she cared about was fixing her coat. Throwing it away was not an option.

Apparently, her ignorant, dandy stepmother did not understand this, because she immediately proposed to do so. "Well, don't worry dear," Karen placated, "You were wanting a new coat a few months ago anyway, weren't you? Now we can buy one."

"This IS a new coat," Sarah squealed in exasperation. Their conversation was leading nowhere fast, and Sarah was not at all sure she liked what her stepmother's words had revealed so far. Honestly, the woman was either blind or stupid. She had failed to take notice of her stepdaughter's new clothing, even as she picked on Sarah for wearing childish outfits. Worse, Karen had betrayed that the only way for Sarah actually to deserve new clothes, in her viewpoint, was if old ones were destroyed by stains, rips, or tears. This seemed incongruous with her near constant encouragement for Sarah to update her wardrobe.

"If that was a new coat," said her stepmother calmly, "Then why on earth did you get it dirty?"

"I didn't do it on purpose!" Sarah exclaimed, "Someone dumped juice on my head!"

"Why wasn't the coat in your locker where it belonged?" Karen inquired.

This was the last straw. Sarah shrieked, momentarily returning to her bratty, pre-Labyrinth self. The younger version of Sarah had never been far away, after all, boiling hidden beneath the surface. "Argh! I can't do anything right, can I?"

"Don't you take that tone with me young lady," frowned the stepmother, inspecting the coat for the first time. At last, with a sigh implying the whole ordeal would be a huge inconvenience for her, Karen held up the garment to the light. Then, shaking her head, she draped the wooly fabric over one arm. "I'll see what I can do," she continued, "If you can do something for me as well."

Glaring at her stepmother silently, Sarah did her best to stifle and submerge her anxiety and frustration. _It isn't Karen's fault _– she repeated to herself like a mantra – _Karen is trying to help._ Still, the resentment showed through. "What?"

"I noticed that you took Lancelot away from Toby again," her stepmother replied icily. "You know that's Toby's favorite toy. Please, try to show your brother a little consideration."

Without even waiting for an answer, Karen swept from the room, and Sarah fled to her room, hoping that her stepmother hadn't seen how her face crumbled to hear this news. It seemed Toby's new toy did not appease him. Only her favorite – the bear her real mother had given to her – was good enough for him. And while she could no longer find it in her heart to blame Toby for this injustice, it was hard to like Karen at the moment. Her stepbrother was a little boy, innocent, undeserving of an evil sister who tried to wish him away to the goblins over something as stupid as a _teddy bear_, but her stepmother was another story. Karen knew the significance of the toy, she simply chose her own child's happiness over Sarah's feelings. No, that wasn't right. Karen simply felt a teenager was too old for toys.

And she was right, of course. Sarah flopped down in the chair in front of her vanity, rubbing her head tiredly. She had been over this issue already. Upon returning from her quest, she had vowed to give up all her toys and move on, so why was this such a difficult task? Twice tonight, she had lapsed into habitual hatred of her stepmother and reverted to an earlier attitude, feeling the world was unfair and out to get her.

"When will I grow up?" she muttered, laying her head on the desk. "Of course, she hates me, I'm so… stupid."

"S'just jealous ya know," a squeaky voice answered her, "Th' boy cried all day, she came home ta calm 'im. But he wanted you. Said your name, even. Powerful things, first words and first names."

The voice was so close to her right ear that Sarah could have sworn it came from the inside of her head. Except for one thing – her tone was never so shrill and twittering. Plus, this accent, it was very distinctive to the goblins and denizens of the…

"AAaaaaaah!" she screeched, then promptly fell out of her chair in an effort to distance herself from the vanity. A little brown bear sat innocuously in front of the mirror on the desk, but he was no longer holding still and behaving as a brown bear should. In fact, as she watched, dark brown fur morphed into fuzzy hair and a gnarled brown face peered back at her. The furry creature still looked as cute as a teddy bear, but now, he also looked distinctly like a baby-Hoggle, or perhaps a fairy crossed with a puppy.

There was really no describing just how disturbing this revelation was for Sarah. "You… you!!" she pointed at the creature, shocked speechless.

"Pollick," the wizened little teddy bear man bowed, "At your service."

"The Goblin King did put something in my pocket after all," she fumed then, suddenly angry at the world again, now that she had a new focus. Then, because this fuzzy creature reminded her of a miniature Hoggle with more hair, she inquired brusquely, "What are you?"

Hoggle had been her friend. Ludo, Sir Didymus, the old Wiseman, and even the fireys had joined in her going-away party. But this thing, she had never seen its like before in the Labyrinth, and it irked her.

This question seemed to put the creature back a few steps. Obviously, in the Labyrinth no one bothered asking such things, since the answer was already clear to anyone who had grown-up around magic. "A garden gnome, m'am," it replied meekly. "Just like the Great Hoggle of the Garden Wall."

Rubbing her forehead again, Sarah pondered the weirdness of their conversation. At least the little guy had not attacked her or bitten her like one of the flower-fairies. "Hoggle is a garden gnome?" she asked incredulously, wondering if her old friend knew that he had a title revered amongst wee garden-peoples everywhere.

"The Great Hoggle is half-dwarf," chirped the gnome solemnly, in a gravely yet squeaky voice. Like most things from the Underground, this creature seemed an anomaly, the embodiment of an impossible contradiction in terms.

Sarah rose to her feet, as one last, horrific realization came to the forefront of her consciousness. "Hey!" she protested, "I changed clothes in front of you, all last week!"

Pollick nodded, then looked away, slightly abashed. Mortals were pointlessly shy. As if a garden gnome would care for a human! Besides, she was ten-times his size. "I closed my eyes?" he volunteered cheerily.

With a groan, Sarah stomped toward her bed and pulled a pillow over her head. "This is not happening to me."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

He could feel the smug satisfaction of the Labyrinth every time he touched one of its stones with his bare skin. Before, she had been accepted by the maze – after all, she had beaten all of its challenges, nevermind the shortcuts and side-routes that Jareth had allowed her. But now the maze actually seemed to _like_ her.

And he still couldn't get to the bottom of the explosive growth of the maze. Whether or not the Labyrinth approved of Sarah, the belief of one human girl should not have affected the entire Underground in this manner. It was impossible! Completely unrealistic, to imagine one person could have this much significance.

All the same, the facts were staring him in the face. Sarah had entered the Hall of Dreams, and when she left, the Labyrinth had started to reach beyond its boundaries. Of course, he had visited the Hall, trying to uncover what she had done, but everything had been infuriatingly normal there. Flowers, bushes, stones, water…

Something about the water caught his memory. It had seemed normal enough at the time, but the stream had been running a tad bit faster than usual, hadn't it?

"Hogwish!" he called loudly, appearing behind an extremely terrified little half-dwarf.

Spinning around, the gnarled little man practically lost his balance. His hands and his head had always been too large for his feet, but his figure never became a problem until he was forced to deal with creatures like _this_. Stupid elves. They were as flighty and tricky as garden-fairies, only larger and meaner, this particular specimen being one of the meanest ones in all of the Underground.

The sun beat down on Hoggle while he stared at his King and debated whether to correct Jareth yet again for mispronouncing his name. In the end, it was such a common occurrence, and the Goblin King was so completely oblivious to the message, that Hoggle surrendered to the ignominious fate of having his name hacked to pieces. As usual.

Shouldering his fairy spray-gun, he wiped his forehead and asked wearily, "Your Majesty? What can I be doin' for you then?" It was a hot day, like it had been for the last week or two, or three… In fact, Hoggle could hardly remember a heat wave this intense. Plants were growing out of control in his section of the garden, and tiny flower-sized fairies were multiplying like mad. His spray-gun had never been so busy.

"I need you to give the lady a message," demanded the King.

With one hand on his hip and the other pointing imperiously toward his companion, the Goblin King seemed to fill a larger space than his physical form. The walls of the maze were simply not big enough to contain him, Hoggle thought uneasily. "Eh… I don't know what you're talking about," the half-dwarf dissembled, hiding one hand behind his back in guilt.

A small trinket twinkled there, one of the hair clips he had seen in Sarah's room, which she had graciously presented to him in compensation for his services. Her first gift, a plastic bracelet, had been lost, but Hoggle estimated this clip was even more valuable. It looked like metal, not glass! Aboveworld baubles were precious beyond measure.

The Goblin King just frowned at him. All right, so his suspicious posture probably made it clear that he had visited Sarah recently. Still, he did not want to give up information on his friend. Betraying her once was enough; he never wanted to do that again. Loyalty came naturally to him; the difficult part was deciding to whom he would be loyal, and Sarah had painstakingly won that battle during her first trip through the Labyrinth.

"It's nothing that'll hurt her, right?" Hoggle inquired, scuffling his boots through the dirt. Then, remembering what had happened once before, he quickly added, "Nothing that would charm her either?" The devil was in the details, or so they said.

"It's a very _important_ message," urged the King as he stepped closer, menacingly. "Be sure to convince her."

At this, Hoggle became interested despite himself. Earlier reservations melting away, he leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, "Convince her of what?"

"To return to the Labyrinth," the fae explained simply. "I need to speak to her."

Of course, anyone who knew Sarah like Hoggle did could immediately tell this was a futile request, since Sarah did not take orders well. She had been the ringleader of a troupe of misfits traipsing through the maze, not a follower. Not to mention that anyone who knew the Goblin King would immediately suspect this was a trap. "I don't think…" he mumbled dispiritedly, before he was interrupted by a frustrated fae.

"Hugbrush!" snapped the Goblin King, "There isn't time for niceties or worries, she must return straightaway!"

"Sire…" the half-dwarf complained, in what he prayed would pass for a firm tone, "I don't want nothin' ta harm her."

"Harm is what we shall have, if she does not come," Jareth pronounced dramatically, "Make sure she understands." And soon, Hoggle found he was abruptly staring into empty air once more. Muttering loudly about the uselessness of pompous elite elven scoundrels, the gnarled dwarf scowled and shuffled back to his shack on the outskirts of the maze.


	6. UnKnowledge

**Chapter 6**

**UnKnowledge**

The first thing she heard in the morning when she awoke was a cheerful good morning, from a sprightly little voice holding far too much enthusiasm for things like daylight. The second thing she heard that morning sent the first thing scurrying under the bed. This, in Sarah's opinion was a good thing. It allowed more time for sleep. Opening one eye cautiously, fully prepared to roll over and return to bed if this issue wasn't absolutely pressing, she sought out the disturbance in her room.

A few feet away, her mirror was fluctuating between a normal state and one it had shown occasionally after her quest in the Labyrinth. Hoggle's voice was drifting through the void, and he was clearly trying to get her attention. But for some reason, the air around her vanity desk was pulsing and shimmering, similar to light bending through air that hovered over the surface of hot pavement. As it seemed unlike any of her previous instances of magical mirror usage, Sarah decided this was important enough to wake up for.

"Hoggle?" she said sleepily, yet glad to visit with her friend. This was the first time he had taken the initiative to contact her, without her willing it to happen first. "What is it?"

The dwarf-like face appeared momentarily abashed. Sarah wondered for a moment if this was because she had on a nightgown, instead of her usual clothing. But then, if it didn't bother her, it should not bother him either. Pollick, the garden gnome, had certainly been nonchalant about watching her change last week. (And yes, it still rankled slightly.)

Quickly though, she ascertained that her state of dress was not the problem. Hoggle looked fit to be tied, and he did not seem to know where to begin his sentence. "His majesty," he finally began, "has asked for ya."

Although it was tempting to laugh at the absurdity of it, Sarah immediately recognized he was serious. "What does_ he _want?" she groused. It was still very early in the morning after all. She could not be expected to be very polite about preposterous nonsense at this hour. "Asked me to … what exactly?"

Their conversation had drawn a shivering Pollick out from beneath the bed, at last. The garden gnome stood at her feet now, threading his fingers through his dark brown fur… or was it hair? Sarah couldn't quite tell and was too afraid to ask. Grinning madly at the thought of someone, anyone, being intimidated or awe-inspired by _Hoggle_, she bent over in her seat and lifted the tiny creature onto the top of her desk, where he could see through the mirror as well.

The move clearly terrified him. His expression freezing in place, he almost resembled a teddy bear once again with the glassy look in his wide eyes. The garden gnome bowed and stood up straight, jittering with excitement. "It… A pleasure to acquaintance m'self with th' Great Hoggle, sir Hoggle…" he stammered nervously.

Beyond the mirror, Hoggle was nonplussed. He was conjuring up and then discarding multiple explanations for the Goblin King's behavior. For someone who had lived in a Labyrinth all his life, the half-dwarf had a surprisingly straightforward manner, and it was difficult to comprehend the subtle scheming of his King. Almost as difficult as the complexity of his current task – convincing Sarah to return to the Underground. "Well now, if he already had someone up 'ere," growled Hoggle, "Why make me run his errands?"

Quivering at his negative tone, Pollick mutely gazed at the mirror and then back at Sarah, clearly hoping to be a part of the conversation, yet reluctant to interrupt. "Did he threaten to throw you in a dungeon or something?" frowned Sarah, wondering why her friend would be in such a bad temper.

"He says I have ta 'convince her' to return to the Labyrinth," Hoggle grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. When one took into account his large hands and tiny arms, it appeared that he was simply tucking his fingers under his shoulders. "Hah!"

"Convince who?" inquired Sarah. The gnome on her desk stared through the mirror, soundlessly reiterating her question.

"You!" At this, Pollick's head whipped back to Sarah in astonishment.

"Me?!" Sarah exploded angrily. "And why, pray tell, would I do something as stupid as that?" Nevermind that she had been in the Underground twice now – those cases had been involuntary. The Goblin King was officially off his rocker if he thought she intended to go frolic in his maze of her own accord.

"I don't know!" Hoggle howled. "Says he wants to talk."

"That is ridiculous," she scoffed, "Just because he feels lonely…"

Cutting her off gently, yet without meeting her gaze, the wizened little gardener replied, "Says it's important."

But before the explanation could continue, at that very moment Sarah's stepmother yelled up the stairs for her to attend breakfast with the family. Not that Karen prepared food – she merely appreciated having the entire family in one room, for a sense of togetherness. Sarah suspected it was so that more people could witness Toby spilling his cereal. Truly, he was an adorable boy, especially when he made messes that she did not have to clean up personally.

"Sorry, Hoggle. I have to go." Grabbing a change of clothes and running for the bathroom, she wondered briefly what could possibly be important enough for a Goblin King to need her opinion on it. The greater part of her mind was consumed by more pressing concerns though, such as… how to get a garden gnome and peeping tom mirror out of her bedroom, so that she felt comfortable changing in there again.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

For the rest of the day, the question nagged at her. What had he wanted to say to her? Would he, unbelievable as it might be, try to apologize for his past behavior?

Classes were as dull as ever they had been before she visited the Labyrinth. Before she knew her fantasies were real, she had sought them out frantically during daylight hours, instead of studying as she was supposed to do. And after receiving a shock to the system that morning, classtime was back to its boring, normal self.

After a few hours she began to feel like she was walking on eggshells, trying not to upset herself. There were so many things she had to force herself not to pay attention to – the fact that her coat was ruined, that a little creature from the Labyrinth had taken up residence in her bedroom, that a Goblin King was harassing her, even after she had won his game fair and square… At the moment, it seemed like she had more issues than the local newspaper.

Furthermore, today was a momentous day. This afternoon, she would rehearse one last time with the drama club, before finally going on stage next week. Hers was not a large role, but she cherished it greatly because of this. If one only had a few lines to say, then those lines had best be perfect.

As the hour drew nearer, her stomach would not settle down and Sarah worried she was about to be sick. Stage-fright had not bothered her at all while she had a marvelous pink coat, but now that her good luck charm was sitting at the bottom of their laundry pile at home, she could feel icy fingers of doubt creeping up her spine and clenching at her gut once more. She had to do well today; it was her last rehearsal with the group!

Minutes prior to her practice, Sarah juggled through her belongings, searching for her script. She had memorized the lines already, but still, knowing the script was inside her bag would make life easier. Her heart pounding, she finally found the paper packet and shoved it into her bag, slamming her locker door and hurrying toward the auditorium.

And then, just before she was due to take the stage, the same blonde who had ruined her coat made a face and leered nastily across the wooden platform at her.

It felt like a punch to the gut. She flinched, hoping against hope the girl (what was her name again?) did not sense anything amiss. Suspecting that someone had purposefully ruined your life was different from having it confirmed by taunts and nasty gestures. But she knew had to be strong today, if only to show this girl that she remained unaffected. On cue, Sarah stepped out onto the stage…

… and proceeded to stare dumbly at the director of the club, as he smiled encouragingly and waved one hand, signaling her lines. Apparently, the club director was an optimist. If he only smiled nicely enough, then he expected actresses to remember their parts by force of his will alone.

Opening and closing her mouth like a fish, Sarah began to panic. The lines simply would not come out, try as she might to speak them. The entire day had led up to this moment, and for some reason, Sarah could not recall a single word, other than questions she had tried so hard to forget all day long.

_Jareth told Hoggle he wanted to talk to me_, she thought inanely. _Me! As if I was someone special, someone important, a person he noticed, when really… _"I'm not any of those things," she announced to the rather distressed looking director of the play, and then, before he could ask what it meant, she fled from the stage.

Behind her, a group of girls that she did not know and had only recently started to hate burst into laughter as she exited the hall.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Sarah hated her school. She hated the droning teachers, just like she hated the spiteful girls and popular boys who wouldn't look her way. She also hated fantastically good looking men in tights and flashy clothing who distracted her at one of the most crucial moments in her young life, causing her to be the laughing stock of her entire club.

"There, there." A gnarly hand pet her hair with miniature fingers as she slumped in her seat, face down on her desk. "You're braver than you think, if you can stand up to goblins and all them's folk."

Pollick was crouched beside her head, comforting her in a way she knew her family never would. Sarah could almost hear her stepmother's voice now – Karen would think it a fine thing that she had clutzed out in front of the whole club. Practice makes perfect, and what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, Karen would say. And her Father, despite his initial encouragement, thought this was just an afterschool activity, something trivial and benign. Acting wasn't a career choice in his eyes. Her real mother was an actress, but only one percent or so of the actors and actresses of this world actually became _famous_. She had heard her Father say it before, so she knew how he really felt.

"I didn't stand up to the goblins on my own, I had help," she pouted, "Besides, I was scared stiff the whole time."

"Well then!" the gnome exclaimed, "A _much_ better 'actress' than me. When I'm scared, I run away."

Smiling weakly at the idea of a fuzzy garden gnome being a world-famous actor, Sarah slid her head to one side and regarded him wearily. "At first, that was what I wanted to do," she murmured. "Faced with someone so imposing, I panicked and tried to be as polite as possible. I forgot my lines and the point of the story, and merely begged for my baby brother to be returned. But then, after I saw he was just going to be a jerk about the whole thing, I guess I kind of lost it. I even yelled at him."

A peaceful moment passed them by while Sarah contemplated what she had just said. Was that why she had defeated the Labyrinth? Because she was a better actress than she originally thought? It certainly had felt as if she bluffed her way through the entire maze. Simply refusing to admit that she might fail, she had pushed on and won the day by the skin of her teeth. Thus, all she had to figure out was why she could remember crucial lines in a life or death situation and somehow forget her part when she was acting in a play.

In the end, maybe it was about confidence. As long as she had the pink coat to reassure her, she had done well. When she had acted bravely in the maze, she had formed friendships vital to the completion of her journey. Surely, those same friends would not have wanted to stand beside a fearful weakling, knocking at the knees every time she faced the Goblin King. Perhaps the key was not, as many often said, to 'think positive.' Instead, perhaps she should act that way first, and false confidence could become real in time through her own behavior.

_Or maybe,_ she thought in vexation, _I am not cut out to be an actress_. Saving Toby from a fate worse than death created exactly the opposite kind of tension than performance-anxiety. One was an altruistic action, the other a selfish desire to impress the crowd.

With a sigh, she propped her head on one hand and poked the garden gnome in the chest. "Anyway," she changed the subject, knowing that she had moped too long already. At this rate, her parents would be home any minute. "You never did tell me why you are here?"

Pollick put one hand behind his head, and where a human might have looked sheepish, the movement merely made him look silly. Swaying side to side on his feet, he replied, "Guess I'm supposed ta check up on the lady. But I don't know for sure."

"The lady being me?" she inquired with interest and watched as he nodded in agreement. "Didn't he give you any instructions?" Since the Goblin King had planted a spy in her coat pocket as she left the Hall of Dreams, it was reasonable to believe he would have given his undercover agent instructions ahead of time.

Apparently though, this was not the case. "Nah," Pollick mused, "There I am, minding my own business in m' garden and then here I am, in a great, big, foggy space. I couldn'a even move 'til ya tried washing the coat."

"What?" sputtered Sarah, feeling vaguely guilty that she hadn't done something sooner. "Why?"

"I dunno," he chattered on, as chipper as ever, undaunted by any of his misfortune. "Running water holds no magic, I guess. Th' coat held me, then you broke the enchantment."

As usual, the answer made sense and was also impossibly strange, to her way of thinking. A typical Labyrinth-style response. Maybe, if she asked nicely, then she could take classes from goblins on how to confuse people.

"So, if he didn't say anything to you," she mused, tapping her chin with one finger, "Then why do you think you're supposed to keep an eye on me?"

"Simple, that one!" cried Pollick happily, overjoyed to be able to answer one of her riddles correctly. "Because garden gnomes are connected to the garden itself. Linked to the Labyrinth, just like he is, so he can see through us. Fairies are too, but it's harder to bespell 'em."

The seconds ticked by, as Sarah contemplated what this might mean, trepidation building within her. When Pollick said that someone could see 'through' him, hopefully that just meant he was invisible, because she really, really did not like the concept that a certain Goblin King could have been spying on her directly, by using a garden gnome. If so, then that behavior was truly un-sportsmanlike.

Wondering about it all evening would not help. She had to ask. But the answer she received was worse than she had feared.

"Of course," replied the guileless little gnome, clearly confused by her reaction. "The master is always checkin' up on you, for all your life. Everyone knows that."

The desk blurred before her eyes, and Sarah grew dizzy. Unprepared for her little friend's frank response, it felt like the floor had tipped away from her, a proverbial rug pulled out from under her feet upon hearing his words.

Half of her resisted the idea, repulsed by it. A garden gnome would not know such things – he could not possibly be privy to the internal workings of the Goblin King's mind. And yet, he had recently revealed that he, like most down-to-earth creatures in the Labyrinth, had a kind of connection to the King's mind… Still, the story made no sense. She had never met any magical creatures before her time in the Labyrinth; she had merely watched, and waited, and hoped to do so.

Her other half felt slightly flattered by the idea. After all, she had always dreamed of being the princess in a fairytale, of having a charming prince devoted to her. No, Jareth did not fit the typical fairytale mold, but then neither did she. In any case, she had always wanted the Labyrinth to be real. Now, she knew it was.

She could not quite decide whether it was good or bad to have the story reach out and take hold of her life, for more than one night. To know that he had been a part of her life before she met him was far more frightening than to learn he had been spying on her since she left the Labyrinth. If he had done so in the past, then nothing would stop him from doing so again. But how long had this been going on? What was this all about anyway?

"If…" she spoke slowly, more to herself than anyone else, "If he has been watching me all this time, then why was he so horrible to me?"

The gnome shrugged and his gesture seemed to suggest that she didn't understand the Goblin King as well as she thought.


	7. A Basis for Comparison

**Chapter 7**

**A Basis for Comparison**

Turning away from the garden gnome on her desk, Sarah tried not to look guilty. Not that she had anything to feel guilty about, of course. Merely that she had to wonder – which of the Goblin King's offers had been real, if any?

Once, she had doubted every word he said. He was arrogant, frightening, and he had tried to trick her. He wanted to turn her baby brother into a goblin. No, worse! He had tried to force her to surrender and allow it to happen. If she had given up, then the Labyrinth would have taken more than Toby – it would have taken her decency and self-respect too. There was no way Sarah would have been able to live with herself knowing that she had abandoned her step-brother to his fate. And for these reasons, she knew she could never forgive the Goblin King.

But if he was truly as merciless and self-interested as she thought, then why had he sent her to the Hall of Dreams afterward? It did not seem that he got anything out of the situation, and based on her mental character sketch of Jareth, this seemed out of character. She had assumed he was the type to gloat over a victory and hold a long-lasting grudge over a loss. Instead, he had given her a wonderful opportunity. Yes, she had squandered it for the most part, but that was not his fault.

For the first time, she tried to recall what he had said in the past. Viewing the Goblin King in a new light would require a thorough re-evaluation of his words and deeds. In the Hall of Dreams, he had hinted that her time there was a challenge of sorts, yet he had urged her not to think about it in terms of defeat or victory. And in a way, her experience in the Labyrinth had been similar. After braving the formidable tasks there, she had grown as a person. Could this be the key to understanding the entire experience?

_Augh! I'm confused just thinking about it. _She groaned and rubbed her temples.

If the Goblin King had hidden a huge issue under the rug, like knowing her identity even before she entered the maze, then he probably had many more secrets she was not privy to. Furthermore, if he could check up on someone's progress any time in the real world, then he might have observed her as she traversed the Labyrinth also. Still, he had acted surprised and angry each time she made any headway. Had it all been just an act? Or most of it, but not all?

A human raised in twentieth century America, Sarah was used to taking a direct approach. The only way to discover what he was thinking, she decided, was to ask. He might not answer – and she had every right to continue being annoyed with him, if he persisted in being an infuriating, insufferable elf – but she had to ask him. She owed him a slim second chance, at least.

"All right," she decided finally, setting her jaw and facing the garden gnome once more. "I won't necessarily do what he asks and return to the Labyrinth, but I will call on him."

Pollick nodded absently. Unable to see inside her head, it was impossible for him to know exactly what the human girl meant, but she looked as though she needed encouragement so the gnome did his best to give her some support. He smiled and stepped lightly to one side, while Sarah reached out to the mirror and touched its surface firmly.

Palm flat against the silvery glass, she hesitated only a moment before she called out to him. "Jareth, King of the Goblins, I need you?" And although her voice trailed off toward the end in uncertainty, there was no time to rethink her course of action. The mirror began to burn brightly under her hand.

Emitting the same strange, hazy waves as it had that morning, the surface of the mirror fluttered slightly before focusing on the inside of a very messy, very noisy, crowded throne room. This was a side of the castle she had never seen before. Goblins ran amuck on all sides, chickens were squawking underfoot, and a group of plain-clothed fae gathered around a distressed looking Goblin King. One held a scroll in front of him, reading something aloud, but Sarah had no time to hear what was said, because the instant the image resolved, the Goblin King spun toward her, the back of his cloak billowing around his feet. Narrowing his eyes, he glared at her, while the other inhabitants of the throne room seemed to be at a loss for words, unable to see her.

Startled by the ire in his gaze, she flinched and drew her hand away from the mirror, but it was too late. She could already see him standing behind her in the room's reflection. If anything, his expression grew darker by the second. Sarah turned to face him with wide eyes. Pollick squeaked in terror and dove for the back of the desk.

"Explain," he growled.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"Explain w-what?" came the girl's stuttering response. She paled considerably as she observed him, and it occurred to Jareth that he might have to calm down, before he could drag some satisfactory answer out of her. After all, she had never seen him angry before, not really.

The sky started to draw together, clouds forming out of nowhere as the barometric pressure dropped. Ironically enough, it calmed him somewhat to feel the mortal world shuddering to keep up with his mood. After so many weeks Underground where the Labyrinth had stopped responding to him, it was refreshing to be in a place that did.

"Sarah." He pushed his arms down to his sides and forced himself to adopt a less threatening pose, although the irritation remained in his voice. "Explain what you did to my Labyrinth."

"Um…" came her less than enlightening response. Clearly, it was too much to ask for some rational reply from this girl. The wind outside was beginning to circle the house, buffeting the windows as though he were the eye of a hurricane, and he realized they would need to adjourn to a safer location before his mounting frustration accidentally destroyed something.

It had been years since he felt this vexed by someone's behavior. When Sarah defeated the maze and denied his terms, he had been disappointed not angry. But when she took advantage of his kindness to make a wish in the Hall of Dreams, a wish apparently designed to destroy all he held dear, it _upset_ him. The Labyrinth had been completely out of control since she left. It had overrun its boundaries, eaten two entire kingdoms, and Sarah had delayed answering his urgent summons through Hoggle without any explanation at all. If the results of her wish had been intentional, then she was in a great deal of trouble with him. If not, it was still foolish and careless to allow for side-effects like these. Knowing that this problem was partially his own fault, for allowing her to hold such power over him, did not make him feel any better.

A peal of thunder split the sky overhead, and Sarah shrieked at the sudden sound, pushing back from her chair. Roughly grabbing her arm, he dragged her through the mirror, a portal still showing the inside of his throne room. "Gentlemen," he began abruptly, releasing Sarah as they arrived and watching her tumble ungracefully to the floor, "The plight of your kingdoms has been noted, and the situation is being resolved as we speak. You are dismissed."

A murmur of protest broke out behind him. The Goblin King was having none of it. "Dismissed! That means 'Get out'!" he exclaimed.

Naturally, the goblin guards were the first to heed his order, accustomed to his temper. Sarah barely had time to stand before the little, pudgy, helmeted beasts exited the area. By the time she had finished brushing off her clothing and shot an evil glare in Jareth's direction, almost all the elves had left as well, post haste. One messenger remained, parchment dangling helplessly in the air, and the Goblin King casually waved him into an oubliette. More pressing concerns awaited than hearing the complaints of every Prince or King in the area.

Hands on her hips, Sarah tried to lecture him. However, considering her timid behavior moments ago, he guessed that she was merely putting on a courageous front. She was good at that. "You can't just magick me into the Labyrinth without asking first!" she complained.

"On the contrary," he drawled, taking a seat and propping up his arms on the curved tusks that served as armrests to his throne, "You summoned me without any conditions attached. I can do whatever I want."

It probably was not a bright idea to antagonize her, but then, she was cute when she was angry, and he had been having a very bad day. As she flushed with anger, he interrupted her, attempting to stay on track. "Did you not receive my message, from Hoggle?"

Scuffling her shoes on the dusty, stone floor, Sarah backed away from the pit in the middle of the room, as though she intuitively knew it had been used to hold the children of challengers. Never meeting his eyes, she replied contritely, "Yes…"

"And did he not tell you," he continued darkly, "It was urgent?"

"Well, no," she answered carefully, thinking back to her morning visit from Hoggle. "He said it was 'important' that I speak to you."

Face to face with the woman who had thrown his world into disarray twice now, once figuratively and once literally, Jareth resisted a grimace by the slimmest of margins. There was a time for bandying words and this was not it. Attention to detail was really only useful in circumstances where one made a promise or a deal, not when one answered a simple 'yes or no' question.

"And it is," he rejoined with false calm. "I apologize for intruding on a private matter, but I really must know what, precisely, you wished for inside the Hall of Dreams."

Her reaction was unexpected to say the least. Sarah's green-gray eyes sought out his own, and she asked with a tinge of disappointment to her tone, "You mean you weren't watching, after all?"

Then, realizing how inappropriate her question might sound, she reddened once more and clamped her mouth shut. One slim brow raised slightly, Jareth made a mental note to return and analyze her behavior later. That inquiry just raised too many interesting issues to explore it fully in one afternoon. Shaking his head, he doggedly pursued his original topic. "I know you wished for a _pink_ coat," he said, implying his distaste, "Because I was there when you did so. This alone should not have affected the Labyrinth in such a manner."

Moving to one high window in the room, he motioned for her to follow, and Sarah slowly strolled closer, clearly mistrustful of him even now. Still, curiosity overcame suspicion, and she stood at his side, looking out upon the Goblin City and the Labyrinth beyond it. "Can you see the borders of the maze?" he asked, already knowing what her answer must be.

"No?" she replied uneasily, biting her lower lip. Jareth decided silently that Confusion was also a highly adorable look for her.

"And when you first arrived here," he led skillfully, "Could you then?"

"Um…" she answered once more, "Yes?" The reason behind his questioning dawned on her then, and he could almost witness the gears turning in her head. "You think I wished for something to happen to the Labyrinth?" she laughed, as if this was the most ridiculous idea she had ever heard.

A knot of tension he had not even recognized began to loosen its hold on him. Based on her carefree response, the harm done to the Labyrinth had not been deliberate. It set him at ease to know this, if only slightly. Sarah was not a malicious person. She hadn't purposefully wished him harm.

"What did you wish for?" he asked again.

Sunlight streamed down on them through the window, cheerfully painting the throne room in hues of sandy gold, as Sarah puzzled over an answer to his question. Beginning at the point she had stepped into the Hall of Dreams, she recounted her story, but when she told of a girl standing atop the hill, Jareth stopped her. "There was someone else in the garden with you?" he said incredulously.

"Yes," Sarah replied honestly. "She was pouring water into the stream."

Feeling his heart skip a beat, Jareth stared at her, speechless for the first time in many years. The Hall of Dreams was at the heart of the Labyrinth, although not technically a part of it, and like the rest of the maze, its shape changed depending on the circumstances. Unlike the rest of his domain, however, even the most basic constructs there were malleable.

Elsewhere in the Labyrinth, walls might move, trees might shift, floors might disappear at will, but a wall was still nothing more than a collection of stones, so to speak. A rosebush would not suddenly turn into a water fountain, unless magically induced to do so. In the central garden though, rules changed. Anything became possible. The bushes, the stream that Sarah had seen there, those were not even real. He had stumbled across the Hall once long ago, needing a place to escape to, and a garden had formed there to comfort him. Afterward, the area had retained the shape he imagined, because that was his memory of the place, and the Hall of Dreams always fitted itself to the expectations of its inhabitant. But technically, everything in the Hall of Dreams was raw magic. The garden was just an illusion.

And it was always, always empty. To his knowledge, only the master of the Labyrinth, or another elder of his race, could enter or exit the place. Because there was no entrance or doorway, one had to utilize magic to teleport in or out of the garden. The chances of another highly powerful fae wandering into the Labyrinth, getting lost right in the middle of the maze, then wishing herself to a safe hiding place were slim to none. Besides, the garden conformed to the beliefs of its user, so it was impossible for two people to stand in the garden at the same time. Contradictory personal expectations would force the Hall to form an alternate space to house each person, unless he or she had been invited into the other's personal space, like Jareth had drawn Sarah into the Hall.

Clearly, the girl Sarah had met was not one of the fae. And if a strange creature had been sabotaging the stream of magic at the heart of his Labyrinth, then perhaps this entire debacle was not Sarah's fault after all. The thought brought him a little peace, until Sarah opened her mouth and brought the world down around his ears once more.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"She told me she was the source of the stream," Sarah continued, struggling to remember what had happened. "She looked tired from pouring all that water, so I wished her a water-wheel, to help in her task."

Outlining the rest of her encounter with the mysterious water-girl, Sarah tried to ignore the Goblin King's overt astonishment. It was extremely unsettling to see shock written upon the countenance of someone normally so self-possessed. Why did he act like this was the end of the world? She had simply been doing a friendly favor for … a complete stranger… Maybe he was stunned by her generosity? But then, remembering his rather skewed definition of 'generous,' that was probably not the reason.

When she had finished, even with the portion of her tale about freeing Pollick and the ruination of her nice, new winter coat, Sarah realized with dismay that she was babbling. Clamping her mouth shut, she chastised herself for revealing too much. Evidently, all the Goblin King had to do to inspire panic was to act out of character, and she became nervous beyond belief.

Eyeing him suspiciously, she wondered if now would be a good time to ask about what Pollick had told her. Her companion created a crystal in aggravation and began turning it in his palm, so she quickly checked her impulse, staying silent. Karen always pinched her nose when she had a headache, just before unleashing a torrent of disapproval on her step-daughter, and even though his idiosyncrasies were different, Sarah could recognize an exasperated frame of mind when she saw one. As a teenager, she had a special talent for creating this state of mind in adults.

"The Source approved of you?" he inquired warily. A second crystal joined the first in his hand. "It _spoke_ to you?"

She nodded, inadvertently mesmerized by the turning globes, unable to tear away her gaze. "Did it not occur to you that interfering with the source of the magic in the Labyrinth might cause… problems?" he asked again, a steely undertone to his voice.

"The source of magic?" Eyes wide, Sarah actively tried to look innocent and unthreatening. Naïve. Obviously she had done something wrong, but she hadn't known any better, so he could not be too mad, right? "I didn't know."

"Of all the foolish, frivolous, egotistical, completely _mortal_ things to do," he growled, lingering on the word 'mortal' as though it was the worst of insults. "What on earth possessed you to…"

"Hey!" Sarah objected on behalf of her race. "I was trying to help!"

"That is exactly what I'm talking about!" he yelled. "When one of my people offers aid, he stays to give it. We don't walk away on a job half-finished or foist responsibility on an object. It's lazy. It's careless. Only someone with the life-span of a dragonfly would even come up with such a concept."

Realizing this rant was probably the longest she had ever heard him speaking to her, and perhaps the first time he had ever spoken honestly, Sarah hung her head. When she passed through the Labyrinth the first time, he had seemed enigmatic and untouchable, and she had been slightly in awe, even as she confronted him. He had scared her, taunted her, tempted her, but he had never scolded her like an incompetent child. Once he had come close – she had shouted that he was 'unfair' and his reply had been almost bored. _You say that so often…I wonder what your basis for comparison is. _But this was the first time he had actually yelled at her.

Her heart clenched in her chest, as she suddenly understood something else about the Goblin King as well. They were very different beings. If he likened her entire life to that of an insect, then… Well, one wondered what his basis for comparison was. Really, how old was this guy? Sarah felt smaller and less significant than ever, in his presence.

"Why is what I did wrong?" she asked sullenly.

"The water-wheel powers the stream, which consequently turns the water-wheel?" sighed the Goblin King, "Really, Sarah. Do you not discern a problem with that?"

She blinked, her brain sluggishly responding to his acerbic comment. Well, when he put it that way, it really did sound impossible. As her physics professor had mentioned, a true perpetual-motion machine was unattainable. But somehow she had created one. Completely by accident, of course. And it was run by magic – not exactly the kind of thing you could talk about at home. _Still, though_, she thought, _Wow! _

"So, it generated a kind of feedback loop?" Sarah pondered aloud, finally feeling brave enough to meet his eyes again.

"If by that you mean the Labyrinth is engorging itself on an endless expanse of magic," he said in a level tone, back to being his usual unflappable self, "Then, yes."

Her eyes were appropriately apologetic, although she was too stubborn to beg for his pardon outright. Instead, she straightened her spine and asked, "How can I fix it? Hoggle said you needed me."

"Unwish it," he succinctly explained her next course of action. Opening a portal, he shooed her through it and stepped into the Hall of Dreams directly behind her. "What's done is done, but at least we can keep the damage from getting any worse."


	8. UnWishing

Author's Note: In my version of the story (and many others), the stepmother is named 'Karen'. No name is officially given by the film. The "Return to the Labyrinth" comic, made in 2006, arbitrarily names the stepmother 'Irene.' If you regard that comic book as canon, then feel free to berate me for my misuse of the name Karen. However I am too lazy to change my story at this point.

Finally, A.'s novelization of the movie names Sarah William's mother 'Linda' and her co-star 'Jeremy.' The book names Sarah's father 'Robert,' I believe. Since this book is just cashing in on the success of the movie, I don't know if it is 'canon' work either – but I use these names in my work.

**Chapter 8**

**UnWishing**

"You mean you really can't see her?" Sarah asked, puzzled yet again by the strangeness that was her life. It seemed impossible, but somehow she had a skill that the Goblin King did not.

"Only the water," Jareth replied mildly, standing beside her near the highest point on the hill.

Together they watched the stream rushing by them. What had once been a placidly bubbling brook was now a surging, seething mass of water. The garden had stretched to accommodate it, and Sarah could barely see from one side to the other. In the middle of it all, the water wheel was spinning rapidly, its paddles splashing furiously through the sparkling liquid below. Sarah was happy to note it was still completely functional – at least she had designed her nefarious creation well, even if it caused trouble in the end.

"Perhaps I am too close to the situation," remarked the Goblin King. "A person cannot see the color of his own eyes without a mirror. This garden is intimately connected with my abilities, so I cannot sense its power. But for someone without any magic at all…"

As he trailed off, she nodded to show she understood, although she liked her own explanation better – it would be awesome if she had a talent the fae did not. Still, his reasoning was sound. The water-maiden, who Jareth had referred to as the Source, sat placidly in the center of the rushing stream, on a rock which now seemed much too small to be the wellspring of so much water. Sarah waived to catch her attention, but the maiden did not look up.

"Um, is there a way to get over to that rock, without being drawn in by the stream?" she inquired beseechingly.

Jareth merely gave her a disparaging look, as if he had thought her above asking such silly questions. And then she remembered. This was the Hall of Dreams. Whatever she wished for could become a reality in this place.

"Right," she mumbled, suddenly embarrassed, although Heaven alone knew why she would care what the Goblin King thought about her or her memory retention skills. In any case, she grasped his unspoken message. "I wish for a bridge to carry me across the stream, so I may walk to the rock at the peak of the hill."

A thin, wooden bridge formed before them. The planks of the bridge were tied together by rather weak looking rope, and the whole contraption was affixed to the bank of the stream and the rock beyond by four giant pegs. It had a rope hand-grip on each side, but overall this did little to inspire her confidence. The bridge dipped down in the middle, partially submerged in the stream, and swayed in the current as the waters rushed over it.

_Rickety bridge, rotten wood, poor hand-rails… _Sarah thought morosely. _Not what I had in mind. I suppose I should have been more specific about staying dry. But last time, everything formed precisely according to the image I had in my mind. Why should it be so different this time? _

Setting her jaw, she resolved not to let a little water get the best of her. This was her mess, and she was the one who had to fix it. Even if the Source had other ideas, she would reach that rock, and they would have a little chat. If the water-maiden had deliberately misinterpreted her wish for a bridge, then this only reaffirmed her need to complete her task. The Goblin King was right – the Labyrinth's magic was clearly out of control.

Gingerly, Sarah stepped onto the rope-bridge, gripping the side in a deathly-tight fist as she felt the planks wobble beneath her feet. The center of the bridge was partially submerged already, and her weight could only make it sink more. It seemed before this trip was through she was going to be seriously soaked.

Something about this nudged at her, trying to draw her attention. The water was magical, after all – it couldn't be good to let the liquid touch her. But Sarah resolutely ignored her misgivings and continued forward, determined to right the wrong she had done.

As a teenager in the twentieth century, no one had ever really placed any faith in her before. Girls her age were expected by society to be petulant and demanding, and while her parents made demands of her, it seemed like no one counted on her to follow through with promises. Perhaps that was why her first trip through the Labyrinth had made such a huge impact. It had been the first time she was truly needed. Still though, Toby had no way of understanding what his big sister sacrificed on his behalf.

Only one person remembered the truth, and he was standing behind her on the bank of the stream.

The Goblin King merely requested she 'unwish' the water-wheel. Yet doing so would not solve the King's ultimate problem. From what she had seen in his throne room, she knew the current size of the Labyrinth was causing him difficulties. Worse, as they had stood beside the window earlier, he had implied that she did this on purpose. Sarah felt quite guilty about that. Sure, she had caused him trouble before, the last time she had entered the Labyrinth, but then circumstances had been _very_ different. She was not the kind of terrible person that intentionally wished harm upon others on a regular basis.

Thus, she vowed to do more than dismantle the water-wheel. She would undo the consequences of her wish as well. If she could completely cancel out the effects of her wish, then the stigma of being a heartless girl who made careless wishes might finally disappear from her life. How to achieve this colossal goal, she did not know, but a plan was slowly forming in her mind even as she crossed the bridge.

Everyone wanted something. The water-maiden was no exception. As proven by the rickety bridge that the Source formed in response to her request, the Hall of Dreams was quite capable of perverting its user's wishes. It was tricky, just like the Labyrinth. But, she remembered, the Source could also be taken by surprise. When Sarah first had suggested and created the water-wheel, the maiden had been speechless with astonishment.

_So_, she thought, _I can use that. I still have to word my wish carefully, but she can be distracted . . . _Attention focused on how to defeat her opponent in a game of words, Sarah almost failed to notice that she had reached the water on the bridge. She paused for a moment, watching the stream sweep over the planks upon which she stood, then pressed ahead, deciding it would be silly to waste another wish merely to keep her shoes dry. After all, every wish she made was open for misinterpretation, and she had to concentrate her efforts on the end of this game.

Clutching the rope like a life-line, she stepped into the water, bridge sagging under her weight. A cool sensation tickled her legs, unexpectedly dry and breezy. It was strange; she had assumed the water would feel … well… _wet_. Instead, it rushed by her ankles like a torrent of air, buffeting her ankles with wind. Another step, and the odd sensation increased, prickling at her skin like a charged television screen might crackle under her fingers.

She turned around, ironically looking for reassurance from someone she had firmly decided not to trust. All the same, he would surely be able to tell her if this was normal…

But the bank of the stream was empty, and she was alone on the bridge.

_He left, _she thought, abruptly terrified. _He left me! Of all the rotten things to do, when I am trying to help him . . . _

Heart racing, she tried in vain not to recall the other times this had happened. Ludo had vanished in the forest, leaving her alone to deal with frightening Firey beasts that wanted to remove her head. Hoggle had abandoned her, then returned, only to betray her once more with an enchanted peach. Her mother, Linda, had never come back at all.

In the end, she had forgiven them. Everyone made stupid mistakes. If she didn't forgive those who betrayed her, then she would have no friends or family left at all. Why, she herself had wished away her little brother – that was the worst kind of abandonment, right?

But somehow, it still hurt. Despite the fact that she was determined not to care what Jareth thought of her, what he said, what he did, or _where_ _he was_ in the middle of her very important task, it still wounded her that he had vanished. Even if he was unconcerned with what happened to her, he should have stayed to watch the results of her endeavor. It was the least he could do.

_Maybe I won't try and fix the larger problem, after all,_ she thought rebelliously, her heart aching a little bit at the idea. _He wants me to destroy the water-wheel, so that's all I need to do. Who cares about the Labyrinth and its stupid goblins, anyway?_

Forcing her feet forward again, she took a third step into the stream. This time, the current of air stung at her calves like a series of pinpricks or tiny electric shocks, and Sarah grimaced. She still had a long way to go.

_Why am I doing this anyway? _she wondered forlornly. A treasonous portion of her mind conjured up an image of the Goblin King in a navy blue jacket, gliding toward her through a misty, crystal ballroom. Blushing, she shook her head to force away the vision. _He doesn't care about me, why should I help him? _

The bridge sank a little more with every step, and suddenly a tremor passed through it, shaking the planks beneath her feet. She gazed in horror at the sides of the bridge, as the flimsy bindings began to give way. Before she could ask for stronger ropes or devise some other escape, the twine cables snapped, and Sarah slipped into the water with a piercing shriek.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Jareth frowned for the fourth time in as many minutes, while he observed Sarah slowly creep across a river of magic in the center of his Labyrinth. Hard to imagine what possessed the silly girl to conceive of such a thing, in order to reach the center of the stream. The bridge really did not look too stable. Why not simply unwish that ridiculous wooden-contraption while standing beside the water?

Still, it was her wish, so she knew best how to go about the task. If she felt a need to reach the rocks before she began her duty, then most likely it was necessary. And if the bridge dipped ominously in the center, well, then this was probably part of her intent too. The spell-caster had to undo the spell. This was the way things worked. The principle was so ingrained in him that it never occurred to Jareth to question Sarah's thinking.

Until the moment Sarah stepped into the water, he waited impatiently on the shore. The instant her foot made contact with the water though, Sarah disappeared, and it dawned on him exactly why he should have been worried from the start. She was mortal, unfamiliar with magic; naturally, she had no idea what she was supposed to be doing! And of course, this was _Sarah_, a headstrong young woman who expected help but had trouble asking for it.

Furthermore, she had _told _him the Source was sentient, that she had spoken to it, only moments before they arrived here. In the Hall of Dreams, the Labyrinth's magic granted any wish on behalf of the speaker. He knew the Labyrinth was fond of the girl; he had felt it. But perhaps it was not Sarah the Labyrinth appreciated. Perhaps it was her earlier wish. In that case, allowing Sarah to wade through a symbolic representation of the Labyrinth's magic, just before she opposed the will of the sentient Source of said magic, was a bad idea.

In fact, it was a truly horrible idea. A horrible, foolhardy idea which he had sanctioned by standing uselessly on the shoreline, while she walked straight into a trap. As a master of tricks and entrapment, he should have seen this coming a mile away, but for some reason, he had never predicted this outcome. Accustomed to his control of the Labyrinth, not the other way around, he had failed to understand all the repercussions of her statement, when she had informed him the Labyrinth's magic was conscious and aware of the world.

Cursing his foolishness, he ran toward the embankment and reached out for the bridge. Then, his brow furrowed in consternation. If the rope-bridge still existed, then surely, Sarah did too. Most spells did not last beyond the caster's death. Although he was unsure of the rules within the Hall of Dreams, it seemed reasonable to believe magic worked fundamentally the same way here as everywhere else. It might be that she was still on the bridge.

"Sarah!" he called out, his voice sounding a bit too frantic for his liking. "Come back!"

No answer met his agitated cry, and he stretched out his arm again to touch the bridge. First, he decided, he would strengthen her wish by reinforcing the bridge with his magic. Then, if this made no difference, he would drag her off the bridge manually. A rather desperate solution, but every second Sarah spent surrounded by the magic of the Labyrinth could be hazardous to her health. He had no idea how a mortal body might respond to such a strain.

Stepping onto the lip of the bridge, he used fae magic to generate the energy Sarah might need to resist the Labyrinth's command. Obviously, making a wish or using one of his crystals would draw upon the Labyrinth's power, and this force was exactly what held her in thrall. But hopefully, by pulling from his own reserves, he could assist Sarah in some way.

The bridge swayed slightly under his weight, and the whole contraption rippled as he touched it, shimmering into near transparency under his hands. _No! _he thought furiously, angry at himself for this apparent carelessness. _I'm supposed to reinforce her wish, not weaken it. _Yet no matter how hard he tried to bolster the bridge by amplifying Sarah's intentions, nothing helped. It was as though she had given up.

And just as he resolved to proceed with his second plan, the bridge broke.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

_It wasn't fair. Pick one, a mother or a father. Why did she have to choose?_

"Well, it's a big decision for her," remarked the Helping Hands, echoing the kindly old man's statement from years ago.

"Which way do you _want_ to go?" another cluster of hands chimed in, as if this made things any easier.

_She chose Mother, and there were parties, and newspapermen, and lights, and a handsome actor named Jeremy who sneered at her when she stood too near her mother or his perfectly ironed sleeves. She could see her mother on a stage, glowing in the spotlight like a princess in one of her fairytales, from where she sat in the darkness. Gloomy shadows surrounded her, but she did not dare to turn on a light, because her mother would see the shine of her lamp from beneath the bedroom door and would surely scold her again. _

"The way forward is sometimes the way back," mumbled the wise man, while his hat cackled a rude reply.

And right then and there, Sarah knew that for the rest of her life, whenever she had a bad day she would remind herself, 'At least my hat doesn't talk back.' This seemed well worth a donation into the wise man's box.

_But no matter which way she chose, it made no difference in the end. The way forward really was the way back. _

_In her father's house, she stood in the middle of her old room and marveled that all of her toys had stayed put exactly where she left them. Mother had always winked and assured her that toys only moved when she was not looking. Well, she hadn't been looking, not for months and months now, but this time they had not moved an inch. Here, her toys had merely become dusty. _

"You don't even know what an oubliette is," grumbled Hoggle in his usual, gruff, ill-tempered voice. "It's a place you put people to forget about 'em."

_The rain poured down her back in cold sheets, and she shivered, but she refused to go inside. Her mother had always given her a good-bye hug before – today would be no exception. Until she received her hug, Mother wasn't truly gone. This was just a temporary separation. _

_Light from the opening front door bathed the back of her shirt. Her father emerged, breathless and upset, his shadow effacing hers on the moist, cold ground. "Sweetheart," he asserted, taking her by the shoulders, "What are you doing? You shouldn't be out here."_

_When she explained, his usually calm and placid face crumpled a bit. He promised Linda would return, and because her father was always right about these things, she waited patiently for years and years. Eventually though, she realized she had been forgotten. _

"And I should warn you," chirruped the blue guard happily, "That one of us always tells the truth, and one of us always lies. That's a rule too. He always lies."

_She wondered for the first time why her parents never called each other by their right names, like Mama and Papa. It was always 'Linda' or 'Robert' when they were fighting. Both accused each other of lying but denied any such declaration about themselves. _

_Sarah knew this was silly. No one told the truth all the time. Her parents said the truth was important, but even she didn't tell the truth all the time. Like the one time she used up all the jelly and blamed it on the little girl next door who visited them sometimes, lying didn't get her in trouble then, because nobody ever saw her do it. _

"The master is always checkin' up on you," replied Pollick, standing uneasily on the desk in her bedroom. "All your life. Everyone knows that."

_Long before the guests had arrived, she had crept down the stairs and hidden in the yard by the shortest tree. Sarah had wanted to go trick or treating, but her mother had put her to bed early, to ensure she was not underfoot. Unphased by this development, Sarah had resolved to see the grown-up costumes at least. _

_As the night wore on, she huddled close to the ground, wrapping her arms around her knees to protect her body from the evening chill. Grown-up parties were so long! She had seen all the best outfits, and now she was beginning to feel cold and hungry. And then, a man appeared with the greatest ensemble of them all. He was wearing regular clothes, but his hair was fluffy and his eyes were wild, and the moonlight made him glow. Sarah knew, without a doubt this man was magic. For a minute, she forgot she was supposed to be hiding, and she wished and wished he would notice her or talk to her, so she could be special too. _

_Almost as though he could hear her plea, the man turned and made his way toward her place under the tree. He knelt and tilted his head to one side, silently inquiring what she was doing there. "Mama told me to stay in bed," she whispered, "But I wanted to see the Halloween costumes. Now I can't go back upstairs, or she'll see me."_

_His grin lit up the darkness, and she knew that here was someone she could trust. He knew all about mischief, and he would never tattle on her to Mother. If she put her hand in his, then she could have her every desire. So she did, and they had leapt into the air, landing lightly on the eave outside her room. Climbing through the window, he had tucked her under nice, warm covers, and she had childishly wanted to ask him for a story, so that he could not leave too soon. _

"_Will you come back?" she had asked hopefully. _

"_I may only come one night a year," he had promised, "But I will return."_

If everything was not as it seemed, in this place, then why did she assume the Goblin King was any different? He told both truth and lies, like anyone else – sometimes at once, interchangeably. He seemed prideful and self-confident, yet secretive and sensitive flattery or insults, just like she was.

"Perhaps I am too close to the situation," he had explained, and she had accepted it without understanding. Yet at this moment, the answer had never seemed so clear.

The Source, the Labyrinth, and the Goblin King were interconnected. Without a mirror, they could not know one another, because each was a part of the whole. He could not perceive the way he looked to others, and she might never know exactly what Jareth thought of her, but they could reflect one another well enough. He could not see the water-maiden, but she could, without any effort at all, and she had told him all about it. A mirror, indeed.

The maiden had been lonely, and shocked when Sarah offered her assistance, but ultimately pleased with the gift. And yet the maiden was no more real than the rest of this place. This much was certain; she could feel it in her bones. There was no water closing over her head, because she could breathe perfectly well, and there was no water-wheel because she had only imagined it in the first place. It was the act of taking an object from the Hall of Dreams that made it real, shifting it from fantasy to reality. Until then, the item was nothing but a blueprint. An idea.

_How do I know this? _Sarah wondered, squirming uneasily._ This isn't something I should know. If the water-maiden wasn't real, then how could I speak to her? If the wheel doesn't exist, then how can it cause any trouble? _

As though in mocking response, her memories echoed back at her. "You know your problem? You take too many things for granted," Hoggle complained. "Take this Labyrinth: even if you get to the center, you'll never get out again."

_That's not true! _she protested, struggling against whatever it was that bound her body and her mind. As feeling began to re-enter to her arms and legs, she could feel a raw tingling of power running along her limbs. _Shows what you know, I left the Labyrinth. I went home! _

But the sparkling, shifting surface above belied her, the paddles of the water wheel spinning merrily and dipping into the empty space over her head. It was her creation, after all. She had left her imagination running, a piece of herself actively, tirelessly working from within the Hall of Dreams. A fairy had bitten her outside the Great Wall of the Labyrinth; she had left her blood in the Underground. A ring dropped into the wise man's donation box, a plastic bracelet given to Hoggle, an imprint of her bedroom in the junkyard outside the castle, her dreams abandoned in a crystal on the Goblin King's outstretched palm…

_All right! I get it! _she screamed internally, for she could not seem to do so aloud. _Stop! Just stop. How… how do I make things like they were before? _

Long ago, a vast enchantment was set in stone, intended to trap youths and warriors inside it forever. Only two knew its secrets. One was its maker. The other was a girl who could follow a line of weaving from start to finish, no matter how complex the pattern might be. For one who found a thread of truth in even the most convoluted lies, such an enchantment meant nothing at all.

_I don't understand. _Wiggling her arms a bit more, Sarah tried to kick her way toward the surface, but her exertions only caused some of her dark brown hair to float in front of her face. Her hair certainly believed it was underwater. Finally, she stopped to ponder her situation. Her thoughts were muddled and confused, but she knew the last few ideas had not been her own. But the only person… er, thing… she could be 'conversing' with on any level was the water-maiden, and that just made no sense. _Daedalus and Ariadne? _she questioned the air crossly. _That's extremely unhelpful, you know. _

Nothing more came to mind however, and she was left alone, floating in an endless void. It was difficult to tell how much time passed, while her mind wandered back and forth over the riddle she had been given. In fact, the entire experience seemed unreal, like someone else's problem she had been unfairly burdened with and hoped to drop.

Her first notion, quickly discarded, was based on the mirror concept. If she was like a mirror for the Labyrinth's power, and the water-maiden had spoken to her, then perhaps it was really just trying to communicate with Jareth. _Lonely water-maiden, needs conversation, _she thought. _There aren't any personal ads in the Underground, so it chose me. _

Willing to admit this was a laughable attempt to solve the puzzle, she moved on to greener pastures. The next hint had been the matter of her continued presence in the Labyrinth. Even though she fought her way to the Goblin City through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered, she had never really left the maze. Little pieces of her had remained in the Underground; this was especially true of the water-wheel.

The final piece of the puzzle concerned the ancient lore of the Labyrinth in Knossos, about which she knew very little. Greek myth told that Daedalus built a maze to house the Minotaur for King Minos, then Theseus showed up, and with Ariadne's help, he slew the beast. Everyone got away by the end of the story. Thus, if she wanted to unmake the water-wheel and take back all the excess magic it had created, then she had to be like Ariadne, unable to get lost in a maze. Somehow, she must find the fiber of truth in all that surrounded her.

Again, not the most illuminating hint.

Perhaps, the maze grew when it stole a life, or it thrived on a non-magical person's energy. That might explain the connection between ancient myth and her dilemma. The Source could not make wishes on its own behalf, but by leaving the water-wheel behind, she had allowed the Labyrinth free run of _her_ wish, every second of every day, from then until now. And she could certainly imagine those trapped in the ancient Labyrinth at Knossos had made plenty of wishes, while praying for escape. Yet if this was the case, then nothing could ever undo her mistake. There was no way to restrict the power of the Labyrinth by making another wish, the stuff upon which it fed.

_Fine, then,_ she growled at herself, _I won't make any more wishes, just to play it safe. What other options do I have? _If she went through the Labyrinth and removed every trace of herself, then this might make it like she had never been there at all. This idea seemed likely to be effective, but rather difficult. Hoggle had mislaid her plastic bracelet long ago, and the blood she lost to that detestable fairy on the outskirts of the maze was irretrievable. Besides, the very idea disheartened her. She had no desire to force Hoggle, Ludo, Sir Didymus and the rest to forget her.

Flailing about, Sarah kicked her heels again and seemingly made a little bit of headway through the water toward the surface. What about her earlier memories, resurfacing? Examining the last memory with care, she could not decide whether to feel pleased or alarmed.

Pollick had not lied. Jareth really had been at that party. Her face burned with mortification as she realized he must have known her mother, and that he looked not a day older now than he had over a decade ago. _Unbelievable,_ she thought. _He never even fulfilled his promise. He never returned. _

_But… _she realized weakly, _I wish he had._

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

As he watched, her wish came undone at the seams, the fibers of ropes and planks disintegrating into invisible dust. Hearing her shout from somewhere around the middle of the bridge, Jareth knew he had been right in his assumption. Sarah had still been on the bridge.

Only half-thinking, he dove toward her voice from the embankment, hoping to catch her before she could be swept away by the current. True, it would be hard to catch an invisible girl in an ethereal river, but he had passed more difficult trials in the past. This was his Labyrinth, his magic to control; it wouldn't hurt him to swim through it.

Nothing met his fingers though, even when he reached the point where she had disappeared. Following the path of the stream, he kicked his way toward the center of the water, and then back toward the side again – perhaps she would wash up on the shore. Still, he found nothing.

Growing increasingly panicked, he dragged himself out of the channel and realized absently that he was just as dry as when he entered. His breath came heavily, although it had been a simple matter to swim through the aerial currents, and he looked once more toward the rocks at the top of the hill. Where was she?

As he ran toward the crest of the hill, inspiration struck. It was such a simple solution, he could hardly believe he had not seen it already – a testament to his distraught state of mind. The Labyrinth _had_ to grant his wishes, he was its' ruler. This was doubly true in the Hall of Dreams; all he needed to do was wish Sarah to safety, and it would be so. How many precious moments had passed before he thought of this?

"I wish Sarah was here at my side, unharmed, and fully visible," Jareth pronounced gravely. Stony silence met his request. Apparently, this wish had not been specific enough.

With a hateful glare toward the rocks in the middle of the river, he tried again. "I wish Sarah was fully visible to my eyes, by my side, on the riverbank," he demanded as quickly as possible, words tumbling together as he spoke. "I wish for her to be completely unharmed, unenchanted, or otherwise negatively affected by anything that has happened from the moment her last wish ended until this point in time."

This too, yielded no results, despite the fact that he knew he had made no mistakes in diction or in his entreaty. The dread he had been feeling since he heard Sarah scream increased tenfold. "Right now!" he yelled, stomping one foot impetuously, no longer caring how foolish it might make him seem.

A serene blue sky above the rushing waters was his only reply.

After this, he lost count of how many wishes he made. Perhaps, Jareth guessed, he could not wish for her presence in the Hall of Dreams, because she was already inside this space. Yet attempting to transport her safely to his throne room or Aboveground had no effect. When he tried to view her location through a crystal, the orb lay dead and cold in his hand. He could no longer sense her physical proximity inside the Labyrinth, nor could he detect her spirit nearby by using fae magic.

Nothing like this had ever happened to him before, and he certainly couldn't remember reading about it in the history of the Labyrinth. It was as though the center of the maze had swallowed her whole. It felt like she had died, forever to depart from this world, both Above and Below.

Yet that simply could not be true. If his Sarah was no more, then he would know. Surely, Jareth thought, his heart would have informed him the moment such a disastrous event occurred. And she couldn't be dead, because she never surrendered to anything; she wasn't the type to die in a ridiculous, accidental twist of fate. She wasn't dead, because if she was, then it would be like he had killed her personally by bringing her into this awful place.

_All the magic in the world cannot resurrect the dead, _a treasonous voice in the back of his mind whispered. _Perhaps that is why I can't find her. _

Sinking to his knees in the grass, his spine as stiff and straight as ever, he let his hands fall to his sides. For once, he did not know what to do or where to begin. Surveying the river, he felt frozen in one spot, and part of his mind railed against the injustice of it all. This place looked so beautiful and peaceful. If Sarah was gone, then the weather and the land should reflect this loss.

Irrationally, he decided this was another piece of evidence to add to his list of Reasons why Sarah was alive and well. He simply had to convince the Labyrinth to give her back. Those stipulations he made earlier about bringing her back unharmed and unchanged, perhaps they were too demanding. Time for a simpler request. "Please," he beseeched the rocks, where Sarah had advised him that an invisible water-maiden rested, endlessly generating the source of the Labyrinth's power. "Please bring her back."

This did not do the trick. Was he not straightforward enough? What did the Source want him to say? He could not promise anything to the maze that it did not already have.

"The truth is," he continued miserably, "I love her."

The moment he said it, he knew it was true.

In bringing her here, all he had wanted was to make the girl he met once (and obsessed over since) happy. It would have been nice if she had been happy _with him_, but ultimately, he realized, that part did not matter so much. As long as she was safe and alive, he would be content. That was what love meant, wasn't it?

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

All things being equal, the simplest solution tended to be the right one.

What felt like an eternity passed, as Sarah contemplated how to rectify her situation, but the Goblin King's voice interrupted her meditation. She had been thinking about her childhood, wondering if he really did watch over her all those years, when suddenly she heard Jareth crying.

It was such an inconceivable sound that it drew her attention away from problems of water-wheels, ancient myths, and the zen-like state she had almost achieved while brooding over them. Her eyes flew straight to the surface of the water, and she saw him plainly on the shore of the river. "Please," he said, in a tone she did not recognize as one that he knew. "Bring her back."

The words that followed were equally staggering and implausible. Still, she chose to believe them, because… well, quite frankly, she wanted to. After spending so much time trying to convince herself that he did not care, it was disgustingly easy to change her mind about him. Sarah blamed the pathetic, dismal look he was currently sporting. It wrought havoc on her emotions.

Overthinking her problem had gotten her nowhere. Instead of analyzing each memory for its significance, she realized she had to seek the common thread throughout them all. Her memories told her that her life would always be a part of this place. In a way, everything she had seen or heard in the Labyrinth echoed her real life to a certain extent. Rather than making complicated assumptions, in actuality she had one simple step to take.

Dissolving the water-wheel would negate her future impact on the Labyrinth, and although she could not wish the excess magic away, she could absorb the difference. After all, it was her influence which had created such a surplus in the first place. Closing her eyes, she called for the restoration of every speck of magic she had tainted with her careless command. It had to go somewhere, so it should simply return to the place from whence it came, right?

For a moment, she thought she saw a smirk in the water-maiden's normally empty expression.

"_She chose doooown," the hands mocked her, trilling through her memory in a sing-song tone. _

"_Was that wrong?" she asked in a panic. _

But by then, it was too late to change her mind.


	9. Promises Past and Future

Author's Note: This chapter has been edited slightly, to add explanations. Some readers were puzzled over the Helping Hands' warning at the end of Chapter 8. Sorry about that, hopefully it is more clear now.

**Chapter 9 **

**Promises Past and Future**

When she awoke, her first thought was that everything hurt. Her skin felt like it had been scrubbed clean, and her joints ached. A headache pressed behind her eyes, even her scalp hurt. But a ray of sunlight shone merrily across her face, reminding her that all was not as bad as it seemed, and she could feel a soft, feathery substance surrounding her form.

Turning her face away from the light, she burrowed into the downy warmth below with an inarticulate, sleepy mumble. Surely, her stepmother would not make her go to school when she felt so tired and feverish. The mattress sank beneath her, and she wondered when her bed had become so fluffy and deep. And so comfortable – she felt like she could rest here, quite contentedly, for another few days.

Her movement drew the attention of the only other occupant in the room. "Sarah?" inquired a distinctly recognizable voice, interrupting her nap, and Sarah rolled over to confront the Goblin King, instantly on the alert.

"You're awake," he continued steadily, his tone betraying nothing of his tumultuous state of mind. Bleary eyes answered his announcement, blinking slowly.

Moving too quickly had increased the disjointed pain in her head, and Sarah pulled herself into a sitting position at a more leisurely pace. "Where am I…?" she asked sluggishly, inspecting her surroundings.

A strange suite of rooms met her gaze. The chambers were fashioned from the same sandstone colored bricks that completed every other part of the Goblin City, but everything else was unfamiliar. Clothing was haphazardly draped across the backs of chairs, and a carved wooden wardrobe stood opposite the bed, depicting vines and several goblins mischievously scampering through a tiny forest at its base. The walls were straight in places, and curved in others; the area was never completely square. Instead, the space seemed to ramble. The bedroom intersected a sitting room at an odd angle, and beyond that she could see a study of some sort.

Through the window, light slanted into the room at an extreme angle. Either the morning was just beginning, or this day was drawing to a close, near sunset. She frowned, unable to remember how much time had passed, since she had last been at home in her own room. "What happened?" she questioned him next, even as the memory started to return to her.

Ignoring her questions for the time being, Jareth settled in the chair beside the bed. "How are you feeling?" he said delicately, as though he was waiting for her to fall apart and knew he had to remain calm on her behalf. It was the exact manner her father adopted whenever he had to speak about his ex-wife, Linda.

Torn between sudden embarrassment (this was _his bed_, she realized), and the aching feeling that still encompassed her body, Sarah shook her head, baffled. "I feel all woozy. And arthritic. Only I'm too young to have had problems with my joints, so I don't really know for sure."

Then, checking his countenance for some sign or explanation of her condition, she noted the tension in his shoulders and the shadows under his eyes. He looked exhausted, yet somehow he still held himself like royalty. "I remember," she began tentatively, "I fell into the water and I was trapped. And then I heard…"

Trailing off into silence, she felt a raging blush streak across her cheeks and up to her ears. Had it truly happened? If so, it seemed impolite to confront him with her knowledge straightaway, thrusting the words back in his face just to confirm the whole experience was real. And if not, if Jareth had never actually claimed that he loved her, then she would look like a desperate, lovesick lunatic. Perhaps she was – since when did she start calling him 'Jareth' in her mind, anyway?

"You heard…?" he urged her to finish the sentence, one eyebrow raised.

"I don't remember," lied Sarah uneasily, looking out the window once more. "Why did you leave me there?"

The accusation distracted the Goblin King and left him flustered. Her behavior was a never-ending puzzle, one he simply had to solve. "I did no such thing," protested Jareth proudly.

"But," she interjected, "You disappeared!"

Quickly, he raised one gloved hand to cut off her objection. "I, too, had a similar experience. The instant you stepped into the water in the Hall of Dreams, you vanished without a trace," he explained. Here, his voice hesitated slightly, but he persevered. "I could not prevail upon the Labyrinth to bring you back."

Intrigued and a little bit alarmed by his admission that he could not do everything, Sarah lifted her hands and inspected them carefully. They felt solid enough, and the rest of her body looked normal. There was no chance that she still floated there, merely dreaming about all of this, was there? And yet she could not remember escaping the magical river in the Hall of Dreams. With a frustrated sigh, she dropped her arms and waited for Jareth to finish his story.

"Eventually, the waters began to recede and I found you lying in a slumber. By the time I brought you to the castle, the Labyrinth also had started to shrink to its previous size. Whatever you bid the Source to do was most effective," he said with a small smile. "Still, however, you did not stir. Nothing I attempted seemed to rouse you from this state. So, this evening, when the Labyrinth ended its transformation, I thought perhaps…"

His tale answered all her most pressing fears. It relieved her to know she had not been abandoned and to learn that she did not unwittingly remain trapped in the center of the maze. But the best part of all was the concern in his gaze when he spoke of trying to wake her. The Goblin King was excellent at hiding his emotions, yet in that moment he clearly felt them. It seemed that what she had heard before was true, after all.

Buoyed by the thought, she smiled in earnest. "You tried to wake me?" she inquired sweetly, fishing for a confession or a compliment, although she doubted she would ever receive one from him.

The Goblin King stared, at a loss for what to do. A tinge of pink colored the highest portion of his cheekbones, and the tips of his ears, while Sarah gawked at him curiously. Seeing Jareth blush was not an everyday occurrence_. Is he embarrassed? What would he have to feel embarrassed over?_ Sarah mused. _It's not like he would have . . ._

"Oh no, you did _not_…" she gasped next, her mouth rashly reiterating her shocked mental state.

As if he could sensing the impending storm of her temper, Jareth rose and stepped away from the bed. From a safe distance, he crossed his arms and glared at her imperiously. "The power of a kiss," he replied stuffily, "Has been well documented as a successful countermeasure to such enchantments. Have no fear, you did not respond."

She scowled at him, yet her outrage was only half-hearted. This was, without a doubt, the strangest situation she had found herself stranded in all year, and that was saying something, considering other predicaments she had dealt with recently. Unexpectedly, the one time he admitted to a kind gesture, he seemed furious about it. His attitude took the wind right out of her sails, and she forgot the angry retort she had been planning only a moment ago. It was no good being mad at him, if he was already mad at himself.

Besides, she had been unconscious and he had been desperate to wake her. If he stooped to such methods, and he felt angry that she had forced him to do so, then it probably meant he had tried everything else. _But then_, she corrected herself, _I am still expecting him to act like the old Goblin King. Maybe he isn't really like that. After all, he did say …_

Finally, it dawned on her. If only true love's kiss would awaken one from an eternal slumber, and she did not respond at all, then the real reason he felt insulted might not be that he had been forced to do something repugnant to him. In fact, it might be the exact opposite.

Her eyes followed him to the window, where he stood stiffly, regarding the Goblin City below the Castle. The sun had almost set by this time, and the twilight was setting in, so it was difficult to make out his expression. And it might have been her imagination, but the Goblin King looked distinctly sullen. Biting her lip, she made an impromptu decision.

"You know," she reminded him, "A girl's first kiss is supposed to be special."

"So sorry to disappoint," he rejoined flatly.

A flirtatious Sarah was not the girl he was used to dealing with, so she guessed it might require a more blatant attempt before he took the bait. The prim and proper part of her brain reminded her she had never even had a boyfriend, and this was truly an unwise course of action. Sarah squashed that little voice before it could bother her further. "And I don't even remember mine," she sighed melodramatically. "Too bad, really."

He shifted, watching her out of the corner of his eyes, but said nothing. "Perhaps you should describe it to me," she went on, hoping her mutinous blush did not show too much in the evening's half-light. "You know, since you were there, and I wasn't."

His gaze darkened, and he reinstated himself on the chair beside the bed, turning it to face the opposite direction so that he could rest his arms across the back. Peering at her incredulously, like she had just grown a second head, or perhaps an unanticipated set of horns, he tilted his head to the side and considered her request. "Oh, I could _describe_ it to you," echoed Jareth, while simultaneously changing the tone she had used into something positively indecent. "But perhaps a demonstration would be better."

Now, she was certain she must be flushed. Heart beating a little too fast, she wondered why it terrified her that he had chosen to participate in her teasing game. That was the point, after all. Or, at least, it had been thirty seconds ago. "No, just words," she announced firmly.

Let it never be said that one of the fae did not enjoy a challenge. "How many words?" he asked, eager to discover the rules of the competition.

"As many as it takes to make a full and accurate description," resolved Sarah, refusing to be put off by a little self-conscious uncertainty. In fact, one good thing had come from all of this already – she no longer felt quite as terrible before. The aching in her joints and muscles had died down to mere twinges of pain. Distraction helped divert her from thinking about the discomfort too often.

When he leaned forward in the chair, she pulled back a bit in the bed, drawing the covers toward her tightly. "I see," Jareth grinned almost playfully, then looked down at the backrest of the chair, suddenly serious. "I tried everything," he said soberly, though the admission cost him a piece of his pride. "It was a last resort."

"Of course," groused Sarah, a trace of bitterness developing in her tone.

Hearing this, he quickly shook his head in disagreement. "I should have been able to wake you," he explained tersely, hoping to minimize his apology and salvage his dignity. "Furthermore, I should have dealt with the Labyrinth personally. It was wrong to include you, when doing so placed you in danger."

Not knowing precisely how to reply to that, Sarah fidgeted with the blanket over her lap, twining it nervously through her fingers. Really, it had not been so unreasonable to ask her to unwish the water-wheel – the whole dilemma had arisen from a stupid mistake in the first place. And she had gladly offered to help, because she wanted to seem reliable and capable of fixing her errors, although heaven only knew which one of them she had been trying to convince. If she had to, then Sarah knew she would do the same thing again. Puzzled by whether he meant this as an apology or a condemnation of her abilities, Sarah barely noticed when he pushed away the chair and sat facing her at the foot of the bed.

"Naturally, when I thought of one last way to end the enchantment," he remarked with a half-smirk, as she looked up, "Your opinion on the matter never entered my mind."

"Oh, really." Glaring at him in mock anger, she was relieved to see that playful Jareth was back, since vaguely-guilty-and-remorseful-sounding Jareth was a creature Sarah did not know how to deal with well.

"Yes, really. Although, I'm certain you would not have protested too much," he added, "If you had been awake."

Open-mouthed, she gaped at him. However, because there really was no suitable way to poke holes in his colossal ego, she settled for keeping a watchful eye on him instead. In the gathering darkness, evening light cast a subtle glow over both of them, and the blue and white upsweep of color over his eyes stood out elegantly. It put her in mind of all the fairytales she had loved in her youth and still loved now, and she felt a sense of awe to be in this place, alone with a magical creature. The first time she had walked the Labyrinth, she had been frightened and overwhelmed, so her joy in encountering such fantastic places and people been diminished. Operating on automatic, she had forced herself to stay level-headed and not respond to the marvelous things she had seen. She had been acting out a part in a play. But at the moment, she could fully savor the sheer miraculous quality of her time spent here. The Underground was lacking in a few areas, like indoor plumbing and air-conditioning, but it certainly made up for this deficit in other ways.

Lost in thought, she had almost forgotten her challenge to the fae until he spoke and forcibly reminded her of the issue. "The first thing you missed feeling, due to your slumber," drawled Jareth unhurriedly, "Was the brush of my hair on your nose, when I leaned over you, and a touch of breath over your cheek."

"Er…" Sarah blushed. "You don't really need to… I mean…"

"Helping a lady regain her lost memories is of paramount importance," he intoned virtuously. It was very difficult for the Goblin King to feign innocence, since his demeanor generally implied the exact opposite, but he gave it his best shot. There was no way he could let this opportunity go so easily. "The second thing you feel is warmth. Before anything else, the heat of another person's skin above your own. Then, depending on the circumstances, the soft pressure of light kiss, or something more… demanding… And a taste of old magic, bitter but smooth, and powerful. Intoxicating, in fact."

She shook her head skeptically. "Did you just call yourself intoxicating? Wait, don't answer that."

The Goblin King did not move for a moment, then he sat forward, staring at her intensely. "Do you not sense it, Sarah?" His expression seemed concerned, and she looked back in bewilderment. "It was your wish, was it not?"

Suddenly, they had split apart onto two different pages of the story.

Sarah furrowed her brow, gazing down at her hands for the second time that evening. Nothing appeared to have changed in any way. Next, she pushed up on the sides of her face with the tips of her fingers, but her cheeks exhibited all their usual mushy tendencies. Hair – still brown and glossy. Nope. It was official; Jareth was freaking her out again.

Expectantly waiting for her to finish her odd behavior, he nodded encouragingly. "You have the Labyrinth's magic within you now."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

It took about five minutes for Sarah to calm down enough to speak. (Eventually she had to stop panicking because of an attack of the hiccups.) Once she had recovered her coherence, Jareth explained the stages of her transformation. Since he had been there to observe it, while she had been sleeping and blissfully unaware, he became her best source of information. But that didn't mean she had to like the idea.

On the one hand, well, magical powers were cool by definition. On the other hand though, she was just Sarah Williams – plain, ordinary human girl from ultra-middle-class suburbia. What in the world was she supposed to do with her life, if she had suddenly become magical?

In return for his information, she explained the visions and nightmarish memories that had resurfaced in the Hall of Dreams, and then waited for Jareth's verdict. Obviously, her request in the Hall of Dreams had created her this way. Yet she had never intended to become a magical creature! Sarah had merely hoped to undo the harm and rid the Labyrinth of all the excess magic that the water-wheel had generated. Somehow though, when she called the excess power back to her, her intentions had been twisted and perverted, and now…

Maybe, she could go back to the Hall of Dreams and unwish the unwishing of her original wish? Agh! This was all so complicated! Why couldn't life just be simple every now and then?

Things weren't as bad as they could have been, of course. When that final vision had taunted her, she had thought for sure she was making a fatal decision. The same feelings of indecision and fear that had plagued her when she fell into an oubliette, these had marked the panicked ending to her sojourn in the Labyrinth's center too. "But then, why do you think the Labyrinth showed me that vision of the Helping Hands," asked Sarah plaintively, "Right at the last minute?"

Pondering this for a moment, he pursed his lips and gazed absently at his leather gloves. "I don't rightly know," he replied after a while, sounding subdued, "You mention that the Source used memories to communicate with you. What did that recollection mean to you?"

"Making the wrong decision," she answered without hesitation. "Falling into a trap."

"And yet, even the Oubliette helped you advance through the maze," admonished Jareth. A flicker of amusement passed through his eyes as he watched her chew on this uncomfortable fact.

"If I may make a suggestion?" he went on patiently, waiting for her nod to continue, "In theory, the Source informed you as best it could, that this was essentially the same choice you made once before. Magic is a kind of energy, Sarah. It cannot simply be destroyed or vanish. I warned you only to reverse the water-wheel; I would never have suggested you try to draw in all the overflow and try to make it disappear. In essence, it _was_ a trap – the magic had to go somewhere, so it bound itself to you. Figuratively, you are one step closer to the center of the Labyrinth, even if you never realized the direction your wish would take you."

At this, the brunette's face paled. "Just like Hoggle said I would never escape – it brought that memory up too," she mumbled, "And I still fell for it." The news was all too new, too raw to sink in yet.

With a frown, the Goblin King huffed in exasperation. This wasn't necessarily a bad outcome, in his opinion. Actually, it was rather nice. Now, Sarah would never be free of the Labyrinth, and she had made this decision of her own free will. It rankled that she had not known exactly what she was doing, when she made her pact with the Labyrinth. It would have been better, had she taken back her hurtful words directly and admitted that he had power over her. But the fae were never too picky when it came to a victory by slight of hand or words. An honest mistake had bound her to him, and part of him felt inordinately pleased with the results. What was said was said. She would never have conceived of it, if a sliver of her heart had not wanted to be transformed.

Meanwhile, Sarah was sorting through her concerns. At least she didn't glow or sparkle, or grow pointed elven ears and the like. This was far better than being transformed into a goblin. And as Jareth pointed out, this had been her idea. It wasn't like she should act so surprised. What's more, she had been contemplating how wonderful the Labyrinth was only moments before this revelation, hadn't she? Still, a huge distinction existed between admiring magical people or places and actually _being_ magical.

"But what am I supposed to do with magic powers?" complained Sarah, reiterating her groundless concerns once more, and annoying Jareth to no end.

"Well," he advised briskly, "I would suggest learning how to use them. If you don't, these things have a way of becoming inconvenient and harmful over time."

Eyes wide, she regarded him plaintively, wanting him to promise that everything would be all right and that learning how to use magic would not be too hard. The sun had set completely, but candles illuminated the walls and roof, and Sarah had risen from the bed to pace uneasily about the room. Her legs and her head still hurt; apparently, this was what happened when perfectly normal, human bodies were saturated by an enchantment. She ignored the painful twinges in her legs, focusing on her candlelight shadow as it wavered before her.

"You would teach me?" she asked hopefully, turning to Jareth. "How long until I have to go back home?" But his silence only increased her apprehension. "How long was I asleep anyway?"

"For three days."

"Three days?!" shrieked Sarah loudly, startling him. "Oh my God, Karen is going to kill me! I have to go home right now!"

"Sarah," Jareth began, trying to console the girl before she caused permanent damage to his ears. But the brunette refused to be calmed.

"No!" moaned Sarah, "You're going to tell me something awful, like there is no way for me to leave. I don't want to hear it." Jittery with foreboding, when she imagined how long she would be grounded or how worried her Father must be, she peered anxiously at the ceiling and the walls, as if a way out of the Labyrinth could be found directly in front of her by simply looking hard enough.

Her companion forced her focus on him once more, taking her shoulders, one in each hand, and holding her still. It was probably the most overbearing action he had taken toward her since she awoke, and ironically enough, it helped allay her fears – she wasn't alone in this problem. The Goblin King might do something decent and assist in sending her Aboveground again.

"Not everything in life must be difficult," he chastised her, shaking his head from side to side. "As master of the Labyrinth, I enter your world whenever I am summoned. Because you hold a portion of this power, without a doubt, you too shall be able to return… home… whenever you wish." Removing his hands from her shoulders, he frowned and pulled away, the idea suddenly distasteful to him.

"Oh…" mused the teenager, his statement evoking the memory that had emerged earlier, in the Hall of Dreams, "But you said that you could only return one night year…"

"Under my own power, yes," replied Jareth grumpily. Then, finally realizing what she had just referred to, the fae tensed warily. If Sarah knew this particular quirk to his powers, then she must remember their meeting years ago. And yet, she had shown no signs of recognizing him all this time. "I had no idea you recollected that."

Instantly contrite, she toed the floor with one of her shoes, rubbing the rug beneath her feet. "Pollick told me," admitted Sarah, hoping that it would not place the little garden gnome on the Goblin King's black list. He seemed like the kind of guy to have one, mentally prepared and ready to go, any time he felt a pressing need to send someone to an oubliette. "I remembered it later on my own, too," she added next. "You promised to come back, but you never did."

A nameless anxiety that he had not even recognized until now eased its way out of him. "Well, I never said _when _I would visit you. Perhaps I meant later," he smiled at her.

"Hmph. When is 'later'?" pouted Sarah, not to be put off by a play of words.

"Right now," he declared. Taking her hand, he created a crystal in his other palm and held it up for her inspection. "Make a wish."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

The Post-Chapter Comedy Corner:

"And _why_, pray tell, am I in your room?" Sarah asked indignantly, upon discovery of this most objectionable fact.

"Due to a severe lack of guest facilities in this castle, as visitors rarely clamor to stay overnight in the Labyrinth," Jareth replied smoothly, "Only one room holds a full-sized bed."

"Says the man who can create objects out of thin air," she pointed out helpfully, clearly unimpressed.

"You have the power now too," he suggested helpfully, a tad bit worried that she would instantly generate a makeshift room with a separate bed, leaving his bed cold and empty forever.

Sarah's forehead creased. "What power?" she asked.

"The power of voodoo."

"Really?!" she said excitedly, without noticing the sheer lunacy of the line.

Still though, there was no excuse for such inappropriate wording. It didn't even rhyme with a song lyric or anything, this time. Jareth cringed at his lack of tact.

Meanwhile, Sarah had fashioned a crude doll in the shape of that blonde chick from Chapter Five, out of the bedsheets. (But did Sarah ever even learn her name? No. Of course, not. She was blonde.)

Asking as sweetly as she could, she smiled at Jareth. "Do you have a pin?"

Truly, she had always been his kind of girl.


	10. Epilogueish

Author's Note: The Epilogue and Chapter 9 have been changed, to make the ending less rushed. Also, I thought a lot about what one reviewer said – this story is about working to make life come out right, instead of expecting things will be easy for you. In essence, this was a moral in the Henson movie Labyrinth too. So I thought Toby would be a nice counterpoint to show off Sarah's new maturity, and to show Jareth and Sarah have patched things up.

**Chapter 10**

**Epilogue**

"A wish?" she echoed, staring at the crystal in his palm suspiciously, a sinking feeling gripping her chest. Not for the first time, she recalled the way he had held out a single crystal to her twice before, both times offering her dreams. The first time, his voice had been snide, the offer insincere. The second time, she had firmly convinced herself, was a trick.

Yet watching him now, in light of all the events that had happened since she won back Toby, she no longer felt so certain. What exactly had he been offering, then? The sparkling orb in his fist taunted her, critically assessing her flaws. Was he saying he could take her home, right this moment? Or was this some kind of test?

As the seconds ticked by, she hesitated, remembering his rather desperate expression in the room of stairs, when she first defeated the Labyrinth. If he had truly wanted her to stay with him, and she had ignored his feelings, assuming them to be a lie, then that must have hurt his feelings a great deal. This time though, she knew his offer was genuine.

Feeling her eyes grow misty, she put her hand on top of the crystal in his outstretched hand and tried to focus on the situation at hand. But it was impossible not to re-evaluate all her previous experiences through this new looking glass.

By taking her to the Hall of Dreams, the only agenda he could possibly have been serving was her own. It had been a kind gesture, to allow her a gift of her own making. Anything at all, whatever she asked for, it would have been hers. And doubting him, she had squandered her time there, choosing to ask for stupid, careless wishes instead. Later, when he had disappeared from the riverbank, she had doubted him again, assuming he had abandoned her, when in truth, he was searching for her at that very moment.

Jareth actually cared about her. It wasn't a mistake or a trap. Right now, for once, there really were no strings attached. He was just being nice, as staggering as that might seem. Sarah felt ashamed that she had not figured this out sooner. _So, he really can be generous_, her thoughts whispered.

Unable to form a coherent wish, Sarah sniveled a little bit. Of course, she had to make a wish. She couldn't deny him twice; it would be too rude. Cruel, even. Yet try as she might, nothing came to mind when she begged her mind for answers. In the end, what she really wanted from life was not something she could obtain from the inside of a crystal ball. Magic could only do so much.

Finally, with a wry smile, she decided what she would ask for first.

The crystal shimmered and expanded, becoming more opaque, and suddenly there was a heavy, woolen coat stretched over Jareth's hand. Its' outline was dim in the twilight, but the King of the Goblins could still grasp the fact that he was being mocked. "Oh for Heaven's sake," he grumbled, crushing the back of the fabric in his fist, "This one's purple. What is it with you and this excessively effeminate choice of colors?"

"Lavender and Lace," corrected Sarah. Then, serious again, she finished shyly, "I want to finish high school and watch Toby grow, but I also want to stay here and learn… how to use magic. You said a moment ago that not everything in life is difficult. Does that mean we can do both?"

"We?" inquired Jareth, still glaring at the coat, as though some sort of annoying, catchy theme song was emerging from the fabric and he wanted desperately to turn it off soon.

"Yes, because you owe me a visit Aboveground," she teased, "And you said that it is possible to travel there whenever you are summoned."

Considering this for a while, he seemed to come to a satisfactory resolution and dumped the lavender coat on her lap. "Hmm, I suppose." he complained perfunctorily. "But _we_ really do have to work out a better arrangement. I am not the kind to appear whenever someone beckons me. I have duties too, you know."

"Of course," laughed Sarah, gracefully failing to mention that his job as a Goblin King basically consisted of doing precisely what he denied. "What arrangements?"

The look he gave her was so searching and pensive, it seemed almost ominous. "Wear this, and I may visit you whenever I like," said Jareth, holding out a tiny shape before her. The advent of a crystal in his hand rapidly formed a thin, silvery chain around his wrist, and she lifted the necklace from his arm in surprise. The pendant had a similar design to his own, but it was smaller and done in silver.

She touched the pattern softly, wondering what the significance of matching jewelry might be to an inhabitant of the Underground, if any. It didn't really matter whether the necklace had a special meaning or not – she already knew she was going to wear it. With pride, in fact. It was not often that a girl acquired a present from the King of the Goblins. Part of her imagined it meant something more, wistfully. If it did, would he say so?

Before she could slide the chain over her head, he interrupted her motion. "It will… nullify your previous… words to me."

And neither of them needed to ask which words those were. "Toby won't have to come back to the Labyrinth," she asked tentatively, her hands still arrested in midair, "Will he?"

He shook his head negatively, so she slipped the chain over head and tucked the pendant neatly inside her clothing. It felt cool against her skin, like an ending but also like a brand new beginning, and Sarah smiled.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Toby always knew that his Sister was magic.

In no way was she an ordinary sister. Toby had met those, at the houses of friends from kindergarten. In his opinion, ordinary sisters were just like grown-ups, only they worried about sillier things, like hair or too-much food, or whether anyone-would-just-listen to them. But Sarah wasn't like that at all. His Sister was special.

Often, she talked to her mirror, like someone was really there. Unlike other mirrors though, Sarah's would reply. Sitting in the hallway, he would listen to softly uttered conversations and puzzle over their meaning, with his arms wrapped tightly around his knees.

Sometimes, she looked at things he could not see, trailing their progress across the carpet or through the doors in the house. When Toby turned to follow the line of her gaze, there would be a flash of movement, like an animal darting past his feet, and then… nothing. It was very frustrating.

And once or twice, his Sister had gotten him out of trouble, by stopping a pie plate from crashing to the ground next to where he stood or by pulling a lost object out of thin air from behind her back. Each time it happened, Toby felt a renewed sense of awe. Without a doubt, he _knew _he would have landed in huge trouble with Mom for these accidents (especially that pie plate incident), but miraculously, Sarah had saved him from certain scolding.

An ordinary sister would have let a little brother get into trouble, or worse, she could have actively tried to frame him. He had seen it happen to his friends. Yet Sarah seemed perfectly content to allow him to make his own mistakes. After all, he made plenty of messes without anyone else's help.

She told the best stories, about dragons and bears and princes and mountains, and he knew she had all the answers that mattered. His Mom knew things like what he should wear to school, or when he should eat. But marshalling someone's day wasn't the same as stimulating the imagination, so it was Sarah that Toby turned to for fairytales or games.

Mom didn't like it when Sister talked like that, of course. But then, she never fully trusted Sarah, because once Sarah had Run Away for three days. Toby had been told that lying was bad, but running away from home was much worse. 'Running away' meant anything from leaving the house without permission to play in the yard, talking to strangers, or letting go of his Mom's hand in the supermarket.

To his four-year old mind, all of this seemed overly restrictive, and he wanted to do all the fun things that his big Sister had done. Still, even Sarah concurred in the judgment leveled against him. She would laugh and say he should listen to their mother, because running away really was a bad idea.

Then, later, when their mother couldn't overhear, she would wink and clarify the difference. She hadn't run away – she had been spirited away. And spiriting someone away, well, that was magic. It was there in most of the stories and movies too – a hero, transported to another world, must complete a quest before time runs out.

And if the abundance of weird events, books, and films that backed up Sarah's claim weren't enough confirmation, then there was always Jared, her friend.

Jared was fabulous too, although not quite as special as his Sister. Unlike him, Sarah was around every day, making room in her schedule for Toby to play with her. Besides, while he liked Jared, sometimes touching him made Toby uneasy. Part of him remembered a feeling of cold stone and smooth glass, and a glimpse of strange, scary looking creatures. Still though, Jared understood pranks and fun better than anyone else, so Toby had ranked him highly on his internal list of awesome people. The man just had this aura about him, and if pressed to say what it meant, all Toby could come up with was magic. Other people were normal, where Jared was not.

Mom and Dad didn't fully trust Jared either. One said the man was obviously too old, his hair was perpetually messy, and the other parent complained about Jared's temperamental habit of showing up inside their house without knocking. But Sarah said she would not have it any other way. Relationships, like people, were something you had to work with, and she said she hoped that her parents would come to accept her choices in time.

Toby took this to mean that he did not have to listen to his parents, about _everything_, all the time. Testing his limits, he caused far more mischief than Sarah had in her prime, leaving his parents at their wits' end. And after every spectacular disaster he caused, when his parents were through scolding him, his Sister would tuck him into bed and tell him his favorite story of all, about a girl, a baby, mischievous goblins and a giant maze.

"Sometimes I wonder," she would mutter with a mock frown, "If you weren't turned into a goblin, after all."

If the four-year old, tussle-haired blond had ever connected the dots, realizing that _he_ was the baby in the story who was wished away, then perhaps he wouldn't have trusted her quite so much.

But then again, Toby understood impulsive behavior, if nothing else. His Sister always reminded him that the hi-jinks he got into today might not seem like such a good idea on the morrow, when Mom discovered what he had broken, lost, painted upon, or otherwise altered beyond all recognition. In any case, people changed, and Toby liked Sarah the way she was, not the way she had been.

The day she went away to college was the worst day in his young life. He refused to help her pack, threw eight tantrums, and stole all her socks twice, and yet she was still determined to go. Toby did not want to be alone, but even when he looked up at her with red-rimmed eyes full of tears, she had no better answer to give than, "I'll visit."

Eventually, Toby calmed down and he sat on Sarah's bed, watching the picture frames disappearing into her suitcase. With her son finally under control, Karen left the house, deciding to allow the half-siblings some time alone together. And as soon as his Mom was gone, the four-year old's faith was finally rewarded. Although it wasn't exactly answer he had wanted to hear, she faced him and held out a single, heavy, clear crystal.

"Hold this," she promised, "No matter where I am, I will hear whatever you have to say."

"Can I come see your new school?" he asked, with pleading eyes. He did not know exactly what a 'college' looked like, and Mom and Dad had never heard of this school either, but Sarah promised them it was prestigious. Still, she had been reluctant to allow Toby to visit, and their parents were no more excited about the idea. He had heard his Mom say, in a flustered tone, that the only reason Sarah wanted to attend this school instead of an ivy-league university was because of her boyfriend Jared. For that reason alone, Toby desired to visit.

Sarah tapped the crystal in his hands once more. "If you need to see me, all you have to do is ask. But you can't let Karen know, okay?"

At this, he nodded enthusiastically, holding up the crystal for inspection. Inside, there was a bit of sparkling light, and as he looked closer, he could see rough arches made of a sandy colored, nearly transparent rock, encrusted with other bright, glittering stones. It looked familiar, yet distant and hard to grasp. The arches were draped with colored banners of some kind, and there were torches lit all around the room, until he could barely tell which direction the light was coming from in the first place. After squinting as hard as he could, Toby decided this was a picture of Sarah's college, just before the image faded in the sunlight.

Looking up at his Sister excitedly, he gave her an impromptu hug and slid off the bed. "Will you tell me the story tonight," he chirped happily, "About the Goblins that got 'Cleaners' duty, again?"

With a weak laugh, Sarah promised that she would.

Toby had always known that his Sister was magic. But it was nice to have a solid piece of that reality, in his hand.

THE END


End file.
